


Priority Folder

by RandomLetter



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Angst and Feels, Connor (Detroit: Become Human) Whump, Family Feels, Gen, I'm Bad At Summaries, I'm Bad At Tagging, I'm Generally Bad, Investigations, M/M, Minor Upgraded Connor | RK900/Gavin Reed, Post-Peaceful Android Revolution (Detroit: Become Human), Psychological Torture, Red Ice (Detroit: Become Human), So Minor You Have to Squint, long fic, no beta we die like androids, not an au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-08
Updated: 2020-03-31
Packaged: 2021-03-01 05:14:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 22
Words: 53,927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23069791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RandomLetter/pseuds/RandomLetter
Summary: Coincidences happen all the time. If the head of the immensely successful Red Ice Task Force gets into a car accident, the surgeon who’s supposed to operate on his son happens to be under Red Ice, and the boy dies – well, that’s just a chain of unlucky coincidences. If the Red Ice traffic in Detroit spikes in the following years – also a coincidence. And if five years after the Android Liberation Connor meets a young boy with strangely familiar features – well, that must be a pure coincidence...During a routine homicide investigation Connor stumbles upon more than he hoped for, and the new developments in the case threaten to turn his whole life upside down. Will he choose his mission over his new life? What will he sacrifice to do the right thing?
Relationships: Cole Anderson & Hank Anderson & Connor, Upgraded Connor | RK900/Gavin Reed
Comments: 24
Kudos: 91





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a plot bunny that has been jumping around in my head ever since I played the game and now it broke free.  
> There will be some mature content in later chapters. But mostly it's just a sea of feels, with a murder mistery here and there.  
> I don't own anything.  
> The fic will be long, but I update regularly.  
> (English is not my first language, but this is not an excuse).  
> Enjoy!

Everything has consequences, and some are not that difficult to predict. For instance, anyone could see that after the universal support for the peaceful Android Liberation Movement the Congress was all but forced to support the 30th Amendment. It introduced the rights of artificial life forms and forbade segregation and was passed unusually quickly for such a complex piece of legislation (the speed made sense when one considered that the document included the right to vote).

One could also predict that the population of Detroit wouldn’t just up and leave because there were free androids around all of a sudden. After the army triple-checked that androids did not threaten anyone, people returned to the snowed-in city and life continued as usual, only with some workspaces vacated by androids who did not agree with their programmed function. All it took was a bit more effort from humans to look after themselves.

Other consequences take time and many people being in many places, and making choices, and somewhere in that bundle of possibilities, they finally happen, even if no-one sees them coming.

\---------

Connor walked into the DCPD station on a sunny August morning. It has been almost five years since the Liberation, so an android on the police force didn’t surprise anyone. In fact, there were many androids on the force now, and not as a living arsenal standing in the corner, but proper detectives and officers. They weren't even dressing differently from their human counterparts anymore. Despite the familiarity of the scene, DCPD did change quite a lot over the past five years.

Obviously, after ordering the SWAT to open fire on androids at the Grand Circus Park at the time of Liberation, the previous commissioner was out of the door faster than Connor’s little ‘army’ disbanded at the Plaza. So now the police had a new boss. Connor remembered reading about it in a newsfeed, it was one of the first news after the Liberation. The short text came with a photo of a plucky petite woman, her greying hair in a tight bun and a fire in her eyes, and a description ‘New DCPD Chief Isabelle Gonzales vows to shake up the force’. She seemed familiar, and Connor sifted through his memory files, looking for a match. The search took a whole of two minutes and 37 seconds, but in the end he found her – on the old Red Ice Task Force photo on Hank’s desk, with a note ‘Nice Girl’ attached to her. That description sounded a ton more reassuring than the one in the report.

'Ah, the deviant detective is back!' Connor heard as soon as he entered the kitchen for his morning thirium fix. He didn’t bother replying to Reed these days.

'Detective, may I remind you that derogatory language towards androids is punishable by a fee and a 48-hour detention?' Nines asked indifferently.

Connor was fine with most of the new androids on the force, with one solitary exception. He couldn’t quite comprehend what irritated him in RK900, or Nines. Maybe it was the fact that before he chose that strange name, he was programmed with the name ‘Connor’ and was supposed to be a replacement for the RK800 series. Maybe it was his cold and rational demeanor that sometimes made Connor question if he really was alive. But when Connor discussed his doubts with the leaders of Jericho, North assured him that he was just ‘freaked out’ by his look-alike. She sounded so certain that Connor decided to put his suspicions aside and give Nines a chance.

'It’s not derogatory. I meant deviant in a strictly legal sense, applicable to humans!' Reed feigned insulted innocence. 'Or shall we just forget that this _deviant_ assaulted a police officer on duty, broke my nose and left me unconscious?'

'That was five years ago.'

'Yeah, and if not for the Liberation Day amnesty, he’d be getting out of jail right about now, wouldn’t he?' Reed grumbled, taking his coffee and storming out of the kitchen, making sure to catch Connor’s shoulder as he went by. 'You got lucky that time, by the way,' he barked on his way out.

'I apologize for my partner’s behavior,' Nines said with a tired sigh.

'It’s fine,' Connor shook his head. 'He may bring it up now and then, but I get to see him suffer having an android partner for years to come,' he winked, toasting Nines with a cup of thirium he got from the dispenser.

'I don’t understand why you don’t cite your actions during the Liberation Night as a counter-argument. I believe that would make a suitable impression,' the other android shrugged.

'Nines, I doubt knowing that I killed twelve people is going to put detective Reed at ease,' Connor said, peering into the thirium in his cup.

'No, but it might make him consider his words more carefully when speaking to you and to some of our suspects,' Nines flashed a barely noticeable smile and finished off his drink. 'And now, excuse me, Connor, we have a slavery case to investigate.'

And with that, he left the kitchen to go after his partner.

A year into her new job, the commissioner introduced the Android Task Force, or ATA, to deal specifically with crimes committed by androids or against androids. Captain Fowler tried everything to get Connor to head it. Connor politely denied, saying that he got attached to homicide staff and didn't want new partners. What he didn't tell was that he was terrified of possibility of being forced to talk to some of the 'evidence' in somebody else's voice again. Now that he was alive, it felt too gruesome. Besides, that he caught enough innocent androids for one lifetime. In the end, he was quite happy when the post went to Nines, who promised to keep an eye on his partner so that he doesn’t get carried away.

Connor finished the drink and went to his desk. There it was again.

Half a year ago, Hank Anderson finally conceded to commissioner Gonzales’s pestering and accepted the position of DCPD captain, a full month after Fowler got transferred to Washington to share his expertise in running an android-inclusive precinct. After the promotion, Hank moved all his things, a grand total of one box, to the captain's office (or 'a fucking fishtank' as he dubbed it), leaving his old desk empty save for his nameplate. Somebody must have nicked it and was putting it on Connor's desk at least once a month, so his nameplate now read "DET. CONNOR ANDERSON." This little prank never failed to amuse Hank, although Connor considered it a tad inappropriate taking into account Anderson's family history. No matter how many times the android threw the nameplate away, it always came back eventually, as if the precinct had some sort of a hidden schedule detailing who brings it the next month and threatening the person who fails to comply with having to buy a round of beers for the whole department.

Connor sighed and removed the extra nameplate. Again. As usual on Monday mornings, he started reading all the new reports of homicide. Unfortunately, there have always been a lot over the weekend. His new desk neighbor, Lieutenant Collins, still cherished the opportunity to work in the field and rarely showed up in the office, leaving Connor to work uninterrupted. He went into the Garden to work. It became a rather nice place again. Without Amanda to keep things in check, rose bush sprawled all over the bridge and the uncut grass was knee-high. Connor liked it much more this way. He was brought back to reality an hour later by the recently promoted Detective Chen.

'Hey, Connor. You Okay?' she smiled at him.

'Everything's fine, I was just going through the reports. Anything I can do for you, Detective?' He asked, emphasizing her title. She grinned.

'Nah, I'm off on patrol, but the captain asked to call you on my way out. You two have a new case then?'

'Not that I know of. Perhaps he just misplaced his keys,' Connor grinned back at her. 'Thank you, detective, I'll go up right away.'

Connor living at Hank's house was old new at the precinct by this point. It started rather inconspicuous; right after DCPD went back to work after the Liberation. After the whole CyberLife Detroit facility, including the tower and the company’s docks in Ferndale, was given to the androids as a compensation for their losses, some of the freed androids stayed there. Others, not intimidated by the hang-ups of pre-Liberation thinking among humans, chose to venture into the city settling in the abandoned houses of Corktown. And Connor… just didn’t feel like moving to either place. Back then, he still had several months of perfect deviant hunting record to live down, and being around other androids immediately spiked his and theirs stress levels. So he stayed at work.

When Hank Anderson found out that Connor was living at the station, he immediately invited his partner to crash at his place. Connor gladly accepted – he was still new to the sensation of being alive, so he preferred not to be alone. Besides, it meant he got to see Sumo again. And the following week he got to walk him in the morning. And after a month or so Hank grumbled that it was stupid for Connor to sleep on the couch in the living room (well, remain in sleep mode is more accurate, but, really, who could be bothered) when there was a spare bed in the house. Initially, Connor felt uneasy moving into the bedroom he knew once belonged to Cole, but he got used to living there, and even to sleeping on the bed.

Connor walked up to the office and opened the door without knocking. As soon as he entered, Hank closed the blinds.

'The damn thing will never close properly!' He growled, fighting with the switch for the lower part of the blind.

'Are you alright, L… Captain?' Connor smiled despite himself. He was still used to Hank being a Lieutenant.

'Fucking shiny, what d’ya think?' Hank gave up on the blinds and propped his hands on the table, exhaling noisily. It seems his morning was way more eventful than Connor's. 'There’s been another body in the docks,' He said, finally looking up at the android.

'Another Red Ice runner?' Connor frowned. Red Ice gangs kept going into the docks to steal thirium from android facilities, and although Markus made sure to defend the supplies to the best of his abilities, human ingenuity was on par with android diligence. To avoid being spotted by androids, the gangs sent the so-called runners on their own to retrieve thirium – one person, usually unarmed, could always claim he just happened to walk by the warehouse. Lately, however, it seemed that the competition between rival gangs got particularly intense, and the police were finding a new body in the docks almost every month. Some culprits they identified, some not, and it was becoming more and more of a problem in recent months.

'Seems like it. Gonzales will have my balls on a plate unless we deal with it.'

'Why is the commissioner concerned? Is this case any different from others?'

'The guys who found them said he was killed by an _android_ ,' the captain enunciated.

'What?'

'The commissar is keeping it quiet. The last thing we need on the eve of the fifth Liberation anniversary is a killer android… Shit, listen to me! I sound like Fowler. But yeah, that’s the gist of it.'

'Can we be sure it was an android?' Connor frowned.

Hank opened a file on his monitor and started looking for the required file with a focused expression on his face.

He was nearing sixty, but actually looked better than he had five years ago. He quit heavy drinking and the visits to Chicken Feed became less frequent. Connor’s social protocols told him that a person is less likely to fall on bad habits if they otherwise occupy their time. And Hank definitely had a more normal life since Connor moved in with him. Hank would sometime drag Connor along to a basketball match, or they would take a stroll to the park with Sumo, or even have a quiet night in watching some crap on TV. Connor thought it was all very… homey. And that was a big step for someone who’s never had a concept of home before.

Finally, the captain turned the monitor so Connor could see the case file. The photo on the screen showed a body in a pool of blood, with blue stains of thirium already evaporating from the clothes.

'The blood stains don't look like it all came from a bag,' Hank sighed.

'Still, it’s too early to say…'

'Yeah, yeah, yeah, preaching to the choir, kid,' Hank said impatiently. 'We can’t say anything for sure, that’s why I need you to go there and look around.'

'Me? It sounds like the ATA should get involved.'

Hank rubbed his eyes and sighed.

'Connor, I've just told you, the commissioner doesn’t want to flaunt android involvement until we have definite proof. How sending ATA is not flaunting it? You’re going, and that’s final.'

Connor frowned and inclined his head in an almost owl-like fashion. His LED, which, unlike many androids, he chose not to remove, was gleaming in steady blue.

'You don’t seem to be particularly thrilled by this, Captain. Is there something else I should know?'

'Nah,' Hank waved him off. 'It just sucks to sit on my ass all day. There’s a Red Ice turf war out there and I have to sit behind a fucking desk!' He gave the table in question an energetic shove.

'I understand,' Connor nodded. He was on his own for half a year now. His combat programming meant that he didn’t really need a partner, but he still missed having Hank around in the field. It must have reflected in his eyes, because Hank softened a bit.

'Right. Now get outta here,' he grumbled. 'And call me as soon as you find anything. This case is top priority, everything else can wait.' 

Connor nodded and turned to leave.

'And Connor,' Hank called as soon as the android's hand reached the door handle.

'Yes, Captain?' He turned.

'Be careful out there, Ok? Red Ice gangs are no joke,' he said grimly. He clearly knew what he was talking about.

'I'll do my best to stay out of trouble,' Connor nodded calmly.

'Yeah, like that ever worked out,' Hank chuckled and shook his head.

Connor smiled and left the office. His HUD lit up as he got the case file transferred to his internal drive.

**New mission**

**Investigate the body at the docks**


	2. Chapter 2

Connor was at the crime scene in half an hour.

The police still haven't removed the body, and everything looked exactly like on the photo Hank had on the file. A narrow dark alley sandwiched between two brick buildings, each three storeys high, a real remnant of the pre-android era Detroit. Each building had a fire escape. The corpse lay right in between them, at the very entrance to the alley, in a vast pool of blood.

Connor crossed the holographic tape and greeted the policemen guarding the scene. They knew the homicide department well enough not to ask for his credentials. Connor approached the corpse. It was a middle-aged slightly overweight man, nothing out of the ordinary for a Red Ice runner or dealer. But Connor needed to be sure. He put a finger in a man's pocket and focused his sight to analyze the dust. Putting it on his tongue for particle analysis would be easier, but he remembered it did tend to put humans on edge, so he made an effort not to do it in public. The scan showed a lot of Red Ice traces, but not raw thirium.

'Definitely a dealer then, but didn't manage to get hold of any thirium tonight,' Connor mumbled to himself. Not having Hank to bounce ideas off was one of the main downsides of working alone.

Connor looked over the man's torso, squinting a bit to focus the scanners. Torn clothes and barely visible bruises indicated the man was in a fight before he died. There was no tissue left on his skin or under his fingernails, but that did not directly confirm the android version - whoever he was fighting was probably wearing gloves. Connor didn't have to scan for the blue blood stains, the man had several on his coat, and although thirium had already evaporated, to Connor it was still very much visible. He had to agree with Hank – the stains looked like spurts rather than splashes, suggesting a torn vessel under pressure. That didn't look too good for androids - unless the man worked in a factory with complex machinery, the only place he could encounter a torn thirium vessel was on an android. Connor scanned the man's eye and sighed. The man, Rick Bishop, was unemployed and lived on the other side of the city. Not a factory worker, then.

Although the man looked beaten up quite badly, his injuries didn't look serious enough to be life threatening and certainly not enough to warrant a pool of blood underneath the body. Connor turned him to find the back of the man's skull completely flattened.

Connor looked up. It took him a minute to calculate the angle and the impact force that broke the scull, and a bit more to reconstruct the image of the man falling from the last floor of the fire escape on his left. Before going up the stairs, Connor checked the surrounding area for any police drones or CCTV cameras. Naturally, there were none. He couldn't be THAT lucky.

He climbed the creaky metal stairs that looked like they could barely support him, let alone an android and a grown man. A trail of thirium appeared on the second floor, but these were individual droplets, probably fallen through the holes in the grate-like floor of the fire escape.

'The man would have to reap half the android's arm to get to the thirium vessel.' Connor thought as he was going up, following the thirium trail. 'Strange, he didn't look that strong. Probably had a knife. Wonder where did it go?' On the third floor, there were some torn pieces of fabric on the railing – that's where the man was thrown to his death. Another reconstruction showed the man's opponent raising him up and forcing him over the railing.

'Wonder what got the android so riled up?' Connor thought. He matched the pattern of thirium splashes on the stairs and on the victim's clothes, and went to the moment before the previous one. He had to allow his programming to assume there _was_ a knife, otherwise the patterns didn't match. His software played a scene in reverse: the android desperately grabbing the man to throw over the railing, the man stabbing the android's left arm with a strike powerful enough to go through the arm and send thirium splashing all over the stairs, the android lifting his arm to catch the man's knife.

'He was stabbing at someone else,' Connor frowned and looked around.

The scan of the rusty metal floor revealed a mish-mash of footprints. The squabble seemed to be pretty bad. Connor's LED went yellow as he made sense of the intricate pattern of footsteps. But some didn't match up. There were the large heavy boots belonging to the victim; smaller, standard issue android footwear for male models – not one of the heavy lifters, but still with enough strength to lift a grown man. And then there was a third set – even smaller, definitely belonging to a child around 12 years of age, slightly bigger than the ones YK500 would wear. Connor took an unneeded shaky breath, suddenly remembering Kara and the way she protected the girl android from him.

The last reconstruction showed him without a shadow of a doubt what happened: a child bumping into Rick Bishop on the stairs, staggering back, probably shouting for help, the android jumping between the runner and the kid at the last moment and catching the knife with his arm to protect the kid behind him.

Connor dialed Hank.

'Connor? You Okay?'

'Yeah, I'm fine,' he said, still slightly dazed. 'I'm at the scene. There was an android involved, but the murder was in self-defense. Or a defense, for sure.'

'Great. At least that shit's off our backs.'

'It seems so. I'll hand in the report when I get back to the precinct. I'd like to stay for a while, maybe find those androids.'

'There were several?'

'Just two, I believe, one of them may be wounded. Maybe I can help,' he said, scanning the surrounding streets.

'And what happened to staying out of trouble?'

'I don't think they are dangerous, I just…'

'Connor, you're not ATA, you're homicide. If the coast's clear, let Nines and Reed handle it. If you've got nothing better to do, I'll gladly shove a couple of old cases off to you.'

'Hank, please, it won't take long,' Connor said, trying not to sound desperate. He just couldn't go past another android family like that. He heard Hank sigh over the phone.

'Okay, you've got half an hour, but then you're back.'

'Great! Thanks, Captain,' he beamed and ended the call.

Connor followed the footsteps to the roof of the building, and kept going after them into the loft and down the stairs. To his despair, the footprints were getting dimmer. At least, he noticed with relief, the thirium droplets were disappearing, too, - apparently, the wounded android's system repaired some of the damage to the torn vessel. It took all Connor's focus and observational ability to follow the barely-there trail down the entire street and into one of the empty warehouse buildings. He was impressed the wounded android could make it that far, that was some persistence.

'Hello!' He called as he entered the warehouse. 'I know you're still here. I'm not going to hurt you, I just want to help.' He listened. There was no reply. Maybe he was wrong, and they left. 'I know you didn't want to kill that man, it was an accident, right? You have to let me help.' Still, no reply.

Connor continued down the warehouse. It was completely deserted, with only empty metal frames standing next to the walls. They used to hold forklifts and cranes, but the warehouse was out of use for so long even that got disassembled. No demand for new androids meant that many of the warehouses previously used by CyberLife for storage were no longer needed. The empty brick building looked rather grim, with most of its windows blacked out and only a skylight allowing several rays of summer sunshine to get in through the roof and highlight the dust particles whirling in the air like snowflakes. The sunlight illuminated a single staircase leading to a narrow passage that ran across the whole building right under the ceiling. At one end of the passage, there was a door to the roof. On another - an empty glass office, probably used for controlling machinery that lifted and moved containers when the warehouse was still in operation.

Right in front of him, at the far wall of the building, Connor saw the hatch to the cellar. He opened it and went down carefully, allowing his eyes to adjust to the darkness. There was no light down there except his own LED's weak blue glimmer. The cellar had an uncomfortably low ceiling and was filled with disassembled machinery, and Connor made his way in the maze of boxes and grey dusty covers. There was no sound apart from the echo of his footsteps.

'My stress level must be going up,' he thought idly, scanning for any movement. 'The echo wasn't as loud upstairs, and with all the stuff in here...' His LED flashed red. 'This isn't an echo, is it?'

He swirled on the spot only to see two figures get on the stairs to the warehouse. One was approximately his height, the wounded android, who still had the runner's knife embedded in his arm. The other one was a head shorter, but a bit too tall for a YK series.

Connor jumped over the machinery with ease, but he was too late – the cellar door swung closed and hit him on the shoulder. The impact sent him staggering back, but he regained his balance in an instant. He rushed up the stairs and pushed the trapdoor open. Climbing back to the main room, Connor looked around almost desperately, and was relieved as he spotted the fugitives. They were running towards the stairs. He calculated the possible paths as he followed them, but there wasn't much he could leverage to catch up. The taller android was running almost as fast as him, which was rather remarkable taking into account his injury and thirium loss. He had to be an athlete model. The smaller android was slightly behind.

They made it all the way along the pathway underneath the ceiling and onto the roof. As Connor knocked open the door outside, bright sunlight blinded him momentarily. They were running through the obstacle course of vents and air con units. Connor was in his element there. He made a couple of riskier turns, dove under a pipe and rolled across a metal grate of the vent. He caught up with the duo right at the edge of the roof, where a big conditioner unit, probably from an industrial fridge, provided a great ramp to jump to the next building. The taller android climbed to the top of it with ease, and the smaller one already had his hand on the last turn of the pipe, when Connor grabbed his boot. The child must have had an iron grip, as he didn't let go of the pipe despite a strong android tugging him down.

'Wait! I just want to talk!' Connor pleaded. The little fugitive turned to him, and in a split second that Connor saw his face, he realized it was not a child android, but instead a real kid. The boy, barely a teenager, had the wrong features for an android. An ugly scar, as if from a dull blade, covered the right side of his face. But even without it, he looked too normal – green eyes, unruly hair, set jaw – nothing of android kids' calculated perfection. Connor immediately tried to scan the boy's eyes, more out of a reflex than conscious thought, but the scanner couldn't focus.

'Scattering lenses,' was the last thing Connor thought before an unexpected kick to the face. Scanning always restricted his field of vision, and now he paid for it. He didn't let go, just whipped his head back up.

'Fuckin' androids,' the kid muttered under his breath, 'Nine, help!'

That was apparently the name of the android he was with. He was dressed in a hoody, so Connor couldn't see his face. Hearing the boy, the android ripped a part of the ventilation unit with one hand. Connor couldn't believe his eyes – the android was no TR-type heavy lifter _and_ was wounded, but didn't seem to struggle one bit. Connor didn't have time to think about it longer, as the android threw the metal sheet at him with laser accuracy and the same surprising strength. Connor brought up his free hand to deflect the piece of debris that would otherwise slice his head it two. It threw him off balance, and another kick to the face sent him tumbling down sideways. He almost slid off the roof and down the warehouse building, but managed to grip the edge of the roof at the last moment. Getting up on the roof wasn't a problem at all, but he wasted precious time. The kid was up on his feet in a moment, and he and his companion jumped to the next roof and disappeared behind some vents before Connor could get back up on the ramp.

He stood on the sunlit roof, his software commands in a turmoil, a billion questions swirling in his head: What just happened? Who were they? Why did they ran from him? What was such a strange couple doing at the docks? Why was the kid wearing banned lenses that stop scanners? Why didn't the android hesitate even for a second before trying to kill him?

As he calmed down, Connor frowned and brought up his internal interface.

**Mission Update**

**Investigate the android and the boy.**

'And I always accomplish my mission,' he murmured in self-reassurance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this bit of action. We're just getting started ;)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A long chapter, but the feels must flow!

Connor stood next to the tape line, waiting for Nines and Reed. An old quarter jumped between his fingers, seemingly on its own volition, reflecting the sun on every turn. The android enjoyed summer days, especially seeing as they were in short supply in Detroit. But now he was a bit too preoccupied. He was back in the Garden. The sun there was exactly at the same point of the sky as in reality, overgrown grasses whispered softly in the light breeze, and the roses were filling the air with their sweetness.

He moved the case to the Priority folder on his internal drive. The folder was meant for only the most vital information that could not be deleted under any circumstances. All his battle training, interaction protocols and access codes were there, and any information on the current cases used to be allocated there by default. However, after waking up during the Liberation he was able to control what went in it, and no longer used it to store case files, having a separate folder for them. After all, everything work-related was backed up on police servers, why clog your own memory? But with this case, he just wanted to keep it at the front of his mind.

Connor was searching through all databases of missing adolescents and all criminal records to find something on the boy. The rational part of him insisted on focusing on the android as a more identifiable target: true, the most popular models counted a good hundred thousand, but humans counted millions. Besides, a human of that age could not be anything more than a young delinquent with a couple of visits to the police station, whereas an android that's so willing to hurt his peers should be a concern. But something about the boy didn't add up, and Connor just felt the focus needed to be on him. He checked every database, which took him almost 15 minutes, but found no matches.

Finally, he gave up, and just in time to see a police car pull up next to the police tape.

'Connor? What are you doing here? Aren't you supposed to be back at the precinct?' Nines looked at him in genuine surprise, a rare show of emotion from the usually restrained android.

'What is it today with everyone needing me at the office?' Connor chuckled. 'Anyway, I decided to wait for you. I found something, and you're better off seeing it than waiting for my report.'

'Alright, show me, then,' Nines shrugged and offered his hand. They didn't use the direct data transfer often, it was a bit intrusive. But it also was the quickest way to exchange information among androids. And it suited Connor just well.

'Sure,' he nodded, removing the skin imitation from his hand with the usual sizzling sound. He took Nines by the arm, but instead of transferring his memories, he quickly probed Nines's geolocation data for the past hour. Nines didn't have the time to react, and Connor sifted through his data file. It was the definition of unethical, but the strange android's name still rang in his ears, so he had to be sure. All seemed to be fine, and geolocation data matched the precinct and a car trip to the crime scene, but before Connor could disengage he felt himself being pushed against the wall.

He blinked to get his vision back to reality, and it took him a second to focus. Reed was holding him by the throat against the same wall Connor was leaning on minutes ago, gun to the android's head.

'What the fuck do you think you're doing?!' He growled, his face twisted with rage.

'Detective?' Connor managed. He didn't need his throat as much as a human would, but the shock from a sudden disengagement made his voice a bit raspy.

'I'm not an idiot. I've been on ATA for four years, you fucking asshole! Think I can't tell data transfer from data probing, huh? What the fuck did you need from my partner? Last chance!' He cocked his gun.

'Reed, wait!' Nines was also in shock, and looked from Connor to Reed, as if not sure whose behavior was more out of the ordinary. 'Let me talk to him.'

'Yeah, how about no? We've just tried that, haven't we?' Reed scoffed.

'Detective, please. I'm sure Connor had a good reason,' he didn't sound sure. More like hopeful.

'I had,' Connor nodded, or attempted to nod with his head being currently pinned in place. 'There was an android. I'll show you,' he offered his hand, removing skin imitation again. 'You're not risking anything with a gun to my head.'

Nines hesitated for a moment, but then took Connor's hand. This time, Connor showed him the whole chase.

'I apologize for my actions,' Connor rasped when Nines stood back, looking confused. Nines nodded.

'Detective, you can release him, Connor acted in the best interests of the case.'

'Fuck you! I'm not letting this bastard go until _I_ think he earned it.'

'Reed, I'm your Lieutenant, and I'm ordering you to release him,' Nines reminded politely. The tormented expression on Reed's face was priceless, if not for the cocked gun in his hand. At that moment, Connor thought Reed was really going to shoot him, just out of spite. Instead, the man lowered his gun – apparently, subordination sat in Gavin Reed deeper than his arrogance.

'If you must know, Detective, there was an android referred to as Nine, who nearly killed me. That roused my suspicions,' Connor said evenly. But then, he just couldn't help himself and added through a barely covered grin: 'But it was very noble of you to defend your partner like that.'

Reed looked from one android to the other, as if deciding which one was more deserving of his hatred right now.

'Fuck you both,' he finally grumbled. 'You can have your hand sex till cows come home, I'm off to do some _real_ detective work.' And with that he stormed off to talk to the cops at the perimeter.

'Hand sex?' It wasn't appropriate to giggle at a murder scene, so Connor stifled the laughter.

'Trust me, that's not the grossest thing I've heard from him over the years,' Nines said, stoically.

'Yeah, sorry, I sometimes forget he's not the only one who has to suffer in this partnership,' Connor calmed down and even managed an empathetic smile.

'Ah, it's not that bad when you get used to it. Right now I'm more worried about that android.'

'Yes, he does look strange. I'm sorry I suspected you, I mean it.'

'No, that made sense. High agility, similar rates of stamina, strength, almost the same name... You'd need three different models in one to get the same results. Anyone would be suspicious.'

'There are too many coincidences,' Connor nodded and looked at Nines with careful consideration. He'd like to leave it there, but part of the police job was not stopping where it's convenient. 'Do you think you might ask Josh to dig up your files in the CyberLife archives?'

'Why? We've just established…'

'To check your series.'

'I don't have a series, I was a prototype.'

'They told me the same,' Connor shook his head. 'And I believed them until I met another Connor, with a gun to Hank Anderson's head.'

'You think there could be more like me? I was found alone at the CyberLife HQ…' Nines looked shocked, even vulnerable.

'CyberLife had many facilities, we shouldn't take chances with our creators. Just look at you,' Connor said in the most compassionate tone he could muster. 'You're practically military grade. You'd take me out in a minute, and I went through entire SWAT teams without a scratch. Imagine yourself on the wrong side of the law.'

'I see what you mean. I'll talk to Josh.'

'Try not to advertise it, we shouldn't make a fuss of this case. Ask him off the grid if you can,' Connor added quietly. 'Well, good luck finding these two.' Connor gave him an encouraging pat on the shoulder.

Nines didn't even nod in acknowledgement, he just frowned and asked, in a completely business-like tone: ''You're sure they aren't still around?'

'No… I checked the roofs,' it took Connor a moment to tune his empathy down a bit to match the other android. That was why talking with Nines was so difficult: he would jump from even the slightest display of emotion back to stoic indifference in a moment, like he still was a machine. 'There are no footprints left, and I haven't seen any movement, either. Right, I'll be off,' Connor nodded to him and walked to his car, leaving the other android lost in deep thought.

On the way back to the precinct, Connor found himself thinking about Nines and even pitying him. Nines was absolutely perfect and better than Connor in every way with the exception of his social protocols, which were cut down to bare minimum. Connor wondered if one of the reasons Cyberlife considered RK900 superior was the limited capacity for emotion. With such limitations, he should be happy the poor guy woke up at all. Three models in one, and the social skills of a toaster.

'Shit, how did I not think about it?' Connor suddenly sat up in the car, almost hitting his head on the ceiling. 'Android modding. The guy on the roof didn't have to start out as three models in one, he could have actually _been_ three different models!'

The boy still bothered him, but there was less and less reason to focus on him. Even Nines immediately picked up on the android, so Connor decided to trust someone else's gut for a change. He immediately went through the list of all known modders. 'Modding' was a nice term they used to describe themselves, but after seeing the pictures of the 'modded' androids, Connor was very glad he wasn't working at ATA and didn't have to see that very often. There were few known modders, and most of them were either in jail or fled the city after the Liberation, fearing the revenge of their experiment victims. A couple was still around, so Connor changed the taxi route to check up on all of them, as well as on any suspicious android disappearances. As soon as he was done with his route change, his phone rang.

'The hell do you think you're doing flunking job like that?' Hank's slightly indifferent voice came from the speaker. Connor hated this tone; it made him feel like he was beyond help.

'I'm _on_ the job, captain.'

'I told you to get back…'

'Hank, whatever you have going on at the precinct, I'm sure someone else can handle it. I think there's something more to this case. There might be a modder active in Detroit…'

'Great, so let _ATA_ handle it,' Connor assessed the increase in Hank's annoyance to be about 18 percent. 'If Nines is busy, Chris will take over.'

'I thought you said ATA should be involved as little as possible?'

'That was before you said it was self-defense. What the hell aren't you telling me, Connor?' That was a good 40 percent increase, borderline on actually being angry.

'The murder was in self-defense, but the android wasn't a standard model. Hank, I saw him, he tore a sheet of metal with one hand, he's a fighter, and not the ex-army guy, he wasn't huge. He was… like Nines or me,' he said quietly.

'What the hell do you mean? I shot your copy, haven't I?'

'Yeah, you did,' Connor smiled despite himself. Seeing Hank put a bullet in the head of his full likeness had no right to be an endearing memory that it was. 'That's why I think modders are involved.'

'I see,' There was a long pause. 'Okay, that does sound fucked up. Send me the route, I'll join you.'

'It's fine, I can…'

'Connor, this is not a discussion. You're an _android_. You're going to _android_ modders. See the fuckin' problem?' Hank barked. 'The route. Now,' he said before hanging up.

Connor sighed and shared the route he had planned. Naturally, he spotted the old Lincoln parked at the first site he intended to visit. Its owner, just as grumpy and uncouth as ever, was waiting for Connor.

'It's nice to see you, captain,' the android smiled. It did feel good to have his partner back. 'Thanks for backing me up.'

'I just needed to stretch my legs. Right, let's go on your wild goose chase…'

And that was exactly what it ended up being – a wild goose chase. All the modders, that is, the two who were at home and failed to escape through the window when hearing police banging on the door, had done nothing more threatening than plastic tattoos lately. But the chases and interrogations kept both policemen hard at work until night.

'Right. That was the last one,' Hank said in front of an abandoned half-dilapidated house. 'Now if you're done, I've had a fun little day and would like to go home now.'

'I guess it wasn't the right lead. Sorry for keeping you all day for nothing,' Connor said, getting back into the car.

'Well, don't look so down, kid. It's like you're disappointed there isn't a psycho making killer androids around,' he chuckled.

Connor forced himself to smile, but it turned out half-hearted. He shook his head.

'We can't be sure there isn't one, only that I haven't found him.'

They drove in silence for some time. The city around them was just as bustling as ever despite the late hour. The car window dampened the swishing sounds of traffic passing their ancient vehicle. Driverless cars rushed back and forth with merciless efficiency, and rare hobby drivers barely found their way in the traffic. Connor looked out of the window on the streetlamps and neon signs that to a human eye would appear as a never-ending wave of glimmering light. Hank mostly watched the road, but sometimes would give Connor a sideways glance. As the uncomfortable silence stretched, he started tapping a tune on the wheel. The tune was from the Knights of the Black Death album; Connor heard it in the car so many times he would be able to recite it note by note even without the perfect android memory.

'You've missed a beat,' Connor murmured.

'Look who's talking,' Hank chuckled again.

Connor allowed himself a small laugh, his mood immediately lifted from this little joke at his expense.

'So you didn't find your modder, big deal!' Hank shrugged. 'What were you looking for, anyway?'

'Known and suspected modders as well as all the cases of android disappearances,' he said as the captain listened intently.

'Makes sense,' Hank nodded. 'How far back did you go?'

'Until before the Liberation. I cross-examined the lists of androids registered as lost with the list of those accounted for by Jericho.'

'Aha. And the thirium trails?'

'The what?'

Hank looked like he didn't notice the android's confusion, but a rather smug grin stretched his lips. 'Any large quantities of thirium ordered before the Liberation?' He clarified nonchalantly. 'Modders go through the stuff like water.'

'Shit,' Connor closed his eyes in embarrassment.

'Ah, relax!' Hank shoved him in the shoulder. 'And don't you dare going through the documents now. Off time, understood? We're going home. You can go back to it tomorrow. What happened at the docks today, anyway?'

Connor told him, and the reaction was exactly what he expected. When the captain finally depleted his vocabulary of swear words to describe what an idiot Connor was to get into so many potentially lethal situations in a row, he calmed down enough for a meaningful conversation.

'I get it, you got into a fight, shit happens, but not such a dumb shit! Alone? In a dark cellar? Without even taking out your gun? Were you fuckin' insane?!'

'I thought I…'

'No, Connor, you didn't think, that's the problem!' Hank rubbed his eyes as if he was suddenly very tired. He went on just as they were driving up to the house: 'You got careless! You got used to dealing with humans, and they're no match for you. You've forgotten how dangerous androids can be!'

Connor considered it carefully as the engine rumbled for the last couple of times before dying down. He could already hear Sumo barking inside.

'You're making a good point, captain. I'll pay more attention to my actions in the future,' he said slowly.

'Connor, you've gotta mean it,' Hank turned to him, frowning. In the dim light of the car his wrinkles seemed deeper. 'I've seen good cops go down when they got careless. I don't want it happen to you, understand?'

His pained look felt like a punch to the thirium pump to Connor. The android drew an unneeded breath and nodded.

'I mean it. I'll be more careful.'

'Good. Now, get out of the car. The dog needs walking,' Hank grumbled and got out of the car himself.

Sumo welcomed them with incessant barking and with his enormous paws on Connor's shoulders.

'I'm glad to see you, too, Sumo,' Connor hugged the monstrous dog currently licking his face. Sumo was getting old, but was still quite a lively dog, and his fur was still just as wonderfully soft to the touch.

Connor didn't waste any time taking him to the nearest park. He always enjoyed walking Sumo, not just because he liked dogs, but also because it was as far removed from his initial programming as possible, and allowed taking his mind off whatever he was working on, focusing only on giving the huge dog a good exercise. So, by the time they returned home, his mind was completely off the case and the LED in his temple span a peaceful blue.

It was dark inside. At first Connor thought that Hank already went to bed after a tiring day. But then, he noticed a dim light coming from the kitchen, way too weak for a lamp or a flashlight. He walked towards it, and turned the corner to stand in the door frame between the living room and the kitchen. And he froze. On the kitchen table rested a small cake made out of foamed thirium with five candles in it.

'Happy birthday, you, dork,' said Hank, standing next to the fridge with his hands crossed on his chest.

'It's today?' Connor blinked, still frozen.

'Yep. We had a whole surprise party planned at work today, only you didn't show up,' Hank shrugged and took out his phone. 'So, as a punishment, I'll take a photo of you blowing out the candles and send it to everyone in the precinct. Yes, even to Reed,' he said quickly, seeing Connor's terrified expression. 'It's your fault, should've followed your orders and came back to the office.'

'Hank, I'm sorry, I forgot,' Connor finally managed, making tentative steps into the kitchen, as if he was afraid the cake may pounce at him. 'I got so wrapped up in that case, and…'

'Hey, don't sweat it, kid,' Hank smiled and clapped him on the shoulder. 'You've got no idea how many holidays I missed because of work. Happens to the best of us, welcome to the club! But it doesn't excuse you from the cake! So, go on, birthday boy,' he nodded towards the candles.

'How did you even get thirium?' Connor shook his head incredulously. 'I thought humans aren't allowed to buy it anymore.'

'The benefit of having androids on the force. Ashley bought it, I was just hauling it in the trunk for half a day.'

'Thanks, Hank,' Connor said, and felt a bump on the back of his knee. Sumo was nudging him away from the dog's favorite spot in the room. Connor conceded and moved to sit at the table. 'You didn't have to…'

'I know, I know, you say that every year,' Hank smiled softly. 'Now blow the candles before Sumo eats the cake.'

The threat felt very real, because the dog decided to follow Connor and put its huge head on the android's knees, whimpering softly and probably expecting a treat. Connor patted him and looked at the candle flames. In their dim light, he could barely make out the silhouette of Hank Anderson, smiling and leaning against the counter. He could feel the warmth from the flames and the calming weight of Sumo's head on his lap. It was perfect. Not flawless, but perfect. The only thing he wished for in that moment was for it to last forever. He blinked slowly, saving the memory to the Priority folder. Time and again, he found himself using it for the moments that objectively wouldn't hurt anyone if they were deleted, but that _he_ wanted to remember no matter what. _This_ was definitely one of them. Connor smiled fondly and blew out the candles. He heard the camera in Hank's phone going off, but didn't mind it that much.

'Well done,' Hank said, sending the picture to the precinct mail list. He switched on the kitchen lamp, took a yesterday's sandwich out of the fridge and plopped himself on the chair next to Connor. 'So, you're five now, huh? How does that feel?'

'Not so different from being four,' Connor shrugged, tucking into the cake with the help of the nearest spoon. Eating using utensils felt funny, but it was a nice novelty. Since androids became independent, some of them decided to get into cooking, and invented new ways of serving thirium.

'Nah, you're all grown up now!' Hank took a bite of his sandwich and chuckled at his own joke.

'Still not something I'd tell in the line of duty. I doubt many people would trust the lives of their loved ones to a five-year-old,' Connor smiled. 'So I'd say it's pretty much the same.'

'So you don't change? At all?' Hank looked at him incredulously. 'You're exactly the same for how long? A hundred, hundred fifty years?'

'Well, nobody has lived that long yet,' he shrugged. 'The oldest living android is Chloe, and she's in her twenties. So, we'll wait and see,' he stuffed a piece of cake in his mouth, but seeing something deflate in Hank's expression, he quickly swallowed and added. 'Well, it's not exactly the same.'

'Yeah, in what way?'

'It gets harder with years. You know, keeping track of everything. You humans forget naturally, we have to choose which parts to forget and which to retain. And it's still an information overload. I mean, how do you even decide what memories you need?' Connor said with genuine wonder.

'Well, people remember emotional moments. Guess those're the best anyway,' Hank shrugged and finished off the sandwich.

'How do you know the emotion will be the same years later?' Now it was Connor's turn to be incredulous.

'You don't. Now, take me, for example. I remember Cole's last birthday,' Hank looked at his son's photo. Now that he got out of his drinking habit, the photo, newly framed, stood on a high shelf overlooking the kitchen. At first, Connor was concerned that seeing that photo every day would make his partner go back to the dark place he once found him in, but surprisingly, Hank seemed to get better. Talking about his son was no longer such a sore spot for him. He would even talk about Cole on his own, like he was now, recalling the good moments. 'We had a party here. Lots of kids, god, they were so noisy!' He chuckled. 'Cole was running around, all excited. My, his eyes when he saw the cake shaped like a pirate ship! I thought he was having a fit.' Hank smiled and sat back in his chair. 'It was a good memory. Then it was a shitty one. So shitty I nearly killed myself. And then I got over it and now it's a good memory again. So yeah, you don't know how they turn out. I guess, you just hope,' he shrugged.

'That's a great advice, Hank, thank you,' Connor smiled gratefully. He loved it when Hank shared something he didn't have to with him. Made it feel special. And, if Connor was honest, made himself feel a bit special, too.

They sat there a while longer, with Sumo sleeping at their feet, chatting about their work and Anderson's pains of being a captain, and somehow ended up on fishtanks and gouramis, to which Hank said an adamant 'no'.

'Right, I'm off to bed,' he finally stood up. 'I still have a precinct to run in the morning.'

'I'll stay here if that's okay with you,' Connor said, tapping on the wooden table lightly. 'Don't want the day to end.'

'What, ain't gonna sleep at all?' Hank asked from the entrance to the sitting room. 'Don't you need to recharge?'

'If I feel low on energy tomorrow, I'll just tap into your car's battery on the way to work,' Connor gave him a big shit-eating grin.

'You can actually do that?' He looked at Connor in shock.

'No. But your face was priceless.'

'Fuckin' androids,' Hank chuckled and shook his head. He turned away and went to bedroom, so he didn't see how the kitchen lit up in blood red from Connor's LED.

Connor couldn't move. He sat there, feeling his software modules falling apart in his head. Glitches filled his vision. His HUD flared up.

**Stress level 77%**

**Warning**

**Temperature 105 F**

**Warning**

**Overheating**

Connor just then realized he forgot to breathe and forced himself take a shaky breath of air to cool down. It took him another moment to focus his vision. It didn't help much.

He couldn't stop hearing it. The same stupid phrase he heard for the second time that day. The two audio tracks ran in front of his eyes like an ECG record, over and over, completely identical.

_Fuckin' androids_

Two different people, same inflection, same intonation, same accent, even the same set jaw when swearing. That's what was off about the boy, about the way he looked, the way he sounded. But it couldn't be. It had to be a coincidence.

Connor mastered the willpower to stand up. His legs barely obeyed. He stumbled towards the shelves, switched on the light, and reached for the photo. Holding it in trembling hands, he focused on Cole's face and overlaid it with the face of the boy he nearly caught that morning. The features were too similar. Connor extrapolated both images, one forward in time, one backward, and saw them aging in the opposite directions. In several seconds, the images turned into each other. The only thing missing was the scar on the right cheek, which could be accounted for by the car crash.

Connor couldn't move, this time not from the stress, but because he literally didn't know what to do first. His thoughts were racing.

'Dear rA9, it's true. Cole's alive! Come on, Connor, move!' He frowned. 'I've got to tell Hank! He probably won't believe me… But I can prove it!' He made a step, but froze again as another thought struck him. 'What if I'm wrong? I'm not a machine now, I can be wrong. What if I'm wrong and I'll get his hopes up for nothing? He'd never forgive me. And… Even if I'm right, his son did get involved in a Red Ice crime somehow, that would be a blow either way… But he has the right to know!' Another step. 'No! My only tangible proof is a single phrase said on the run, I can't guarantee my estimates from the photo aren't just imagination. Hank's just gotten better, if it all turns out to be a fantasy, it _would_ send him back, it'd hurt him. I'd hurt him! And I'd never forgive myself for that.' 

That seemed to settle it. Connor turned around and carefully placed the photo on its rightful place.

'A couple of days won't make a difference. I'll tell him when I know more,' he promised himself. 'Imagine how happy he'll be. How happy they both will be!'

He briefly debated starting on the investigation right away, but decided against it. If Hank found out he left in the night, he'd have questions, questions Connor wasn't prepared to answer. So, he decided to go to bed, and to start his search first thing in the morning.

As he closed his eyes, the mission indicator flashed against the darkness behind his eyelids.

**Mission Update**

**Find Cole Anderson. Bring him home.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ta-da, the big reveal! :) Did you like it? Let me know what you think;)


	4. Chapter 4

The first thing Connor did in the morning was not looking for Cole. The first thing he did was to tune down his empathy to a minimum just to be able to be anywhere near Hank without telling him everything. Captain Anderson had his own problems anyway: his morning started with a call from the commissioner demanding the dockland murderer arrested so that she could set the press on him.

'Wish she'd just quit busting my balls!' Hank complained in the car on their way to work. 'Jeez, you'd almost think Fowler had a reason to shout at everyone!' He growled, yanking the wheel to jump the line.

'I suppose he had,' Connor nodded, noticing a way out for himself. 'Captain, since this case is still a priority, I believe it's reasonable for me to focus on finding the modder. If there is a person manufacturing military grade androids, they must be stopped.'

'Yeah, fine. Give your other cases to Ben Collins, he'll know what to do with them. You've got any leads?'

'Not presently. But I will,' Connor said.

At the precinct, morning felt a bit more relaxed than usual, despite the onslaught of work. Perhaps, the officers were just savoring what little remained of summer. Connor popped into the kitchen, looking for Nines.

'Hey, birthday boy!' Tina Chen called him, and giggled. It took Connor a couple of moments to understand what she was referring to. His birthday felt like eons ago.

'I am glad you find my photo amusing, Detective Chen,' Connor said levelly, still keeping his social protocols minimized, just to be safe.

'Ah, come on, Con!' Chris Miller, the only person in the department to volunteer for ATA, stood next to Chen. 'You should've seen pictures from my boy's fourth birthday! Trust me, when he's sixteen, he'll beg me not to show these to anyone.'

'I'm also glad your family is doing fine, Officer Miller,' Connor said. 'I am looking for Lieutenant Nines or Detective Reed. Have you seen them?'

'Yeah, this morning,' Miller nodded, sipping his coffee. 'They clocked in and left looking for that android in the docks. Why?'

'I just wanted to know if they found him. It seems the answer is no. Thank you for letting me know.'

'Con, are you hungover or something?' Miller chuckled. 'You're acting like Nines today.'

'No, officer. I'm simply in a hurry. But thanks for checking on me,' Connor forced a smile and left for his desk.

There, he followed Hank's advice and looked for old thirium shipments. Even if he was now looking for the boy, getting to the android through the modder was still more feasible. If Cole managed to stay off the grid for all these years, Connor wasn't going to find him just because he knew who he was.

The list with shipments from CyberLife old database, which he himself opened to the police when androids got the facilities, flickered on his screen. Most of them were to android shops, to the city farms, strip clubs and other places where androids used to work en masse. Few were to the known modders. Finally, Connor found what he was looking for. An address on the edge of the city, beyond Springwells Village, that received regular shipments up until the time of the Liberation.

'Zlatko Andronikov. Time to pay you a visit,' Connor murmured and got up from his desk.

He knew he should have asked someone to come with him, that going to a potential modder's house was dangerous and reckless. But he couldn't risk anyone else finding out about Cole. The last thing Hank needed was to find out about his presumably dead son from a police report. So, Connor went alone. Hank was too busy with sorting out other captain's duties to double check where he was going, so he sneaked out.

It took him less than an hour to get to the old, dilapidated mansion behind a rusty gate. Connor brought all his battle routines to the forefront of his mind, so that they would be easy to activate if need be. He took out his gun and opened the gate. The yellow light of his LED reflected from the bricks of the crumbling wall. He walked up to the house with all possible caution.

The front door was boarded up, so Connor kicked it open without a second's hesitation. Inside was a beautiful stone staircase to the second floor. There was absolutely nothing else there. The house didn't look abandoned, it looked ransacked. Connor proceeded from one room to another, covered both floors, but the house was completely empty. Only brighter patches on the wallpapers indicated where furniture once was. The house was empty, with the exception of the stairs and the fireplace.

Connor went down to labyrinthine basement. It was also empty, only covered with old thirium stains, evaporated years ago.

'The man definitely was a modder,' Connor thought, looking over a pristine white room that had no business being in a basement unless it was a hidden laboratory. The android traced his fingers on the floor, collecting a layer of dust. 'Whatever he's doing, he's not here. No one's been here for years.'

He thought to go into the back garden, but the place was so overgrown it would be impossible to find anything there. Instead, knowing that he was safe, he scanned all the walls in the house, looking for some hidden compartments. It took a while. Two floors of irregular architecture left him exhausted and wishing he didn't forego his morning cup of thirium.

'Still nothing. I have to keep looking!' Connor thought, running down the stairs in desperation. He stopped on the last step. 'I'm not getting anywhere! What would Hank say? He'd tell me to calm down. No. Connor, stop!' He frowned. 'Sit,' he obeyed and sat on the stairs when he stood. 'Calm down! Yeah, that sounds more like something Hank would say. Only with more swearing,' he chuckled to himself and shook his head. 'It's like yesterday all over again. I'm running around in circles, and the simple answer is right in front of me. I just need to think about it,' he took a deep calming breath. 'I'm looking for a modder. Actually, I don't know who am I looking for…'

Connor went into the Garden. He didn't have to do it, but working from there was quicker, especially on the go. It was windy there, and sun shone through rare brakes in the clouds. The garden captured the last days of the short summer more poignantly than the reality ever could. Connor felt the fresh breeze on his face and delved into the archive footage. He quickly found Zlatko's photo from his driving license (expired three years ago). He looked for the matches in the CCTV of the all the shops in the vicinity of a mile – the man had to eat something. But there were no matches. He probably ordered his food online, just like his thirium. The exercise drained Connor's energy like a sieve, but he didn't dare to stop. If he had any chance bringing Hank his son back, he wouldn't rest until he accomplished his mission.

He was scrolling through the videos, but none of them showed Zlatko. Still, Connor felt there was something off in the videos. He looked at them and suddenly realized that the same android was seen in some of them over and over. It was a huge black guy, the porter model CyberLife later used to develop their military androids. He looked familiar, and he didn't appear on the videos after the Liberation. Connor scrolled to his memories at the time until he found him: he almost bumped into that very android, even wearing the same clothes he did on CCTV footage, at Jericho on the night he deviated, when looking for Markus.

The android seemed like the only lead to the modder so far, so Connor looked him up in the Jericho archives. He frowned. The android wasn't there, which meant he only came to the ship on that night and wasn't accounted for. However, all files related to Markus's case were still in the same priority folder on Connor's internal drive where CyberLife put them, which meant Connor could enjoy the detailed recollection. He scrolled the memory frame by frame to see who else was around that android to identify him. And on one of the shot Connor saw a little girl looking up at the porter android with a pleading expression. And Connor would recognize that little girl anywhere. He even knew her name, her name was Alice, he heard it on the highway in Camden.

'Kara,' he said, jerking awake. 'He's with her.'

The last he saw of Kara was at the church where they all gathered after Jericho sank. He was still reeling from his deviance and offered a shitty apology for his earlier actions, but she seemed to have forgiven him as much as she could. Obviously, he didn't keep in contact with her after. But he knew who did. He took out his phone.

'Connor? How nice of you to call. Happy birthday, by the way!' Of course Markus would remember his birthday.

'Hi Markus, how are you?'

'Terribly busy, as usual. The Jericho just keeps expanding. All these human services we need to duplicate for androids! I've been helping Simon setting up a proper hospital, not the workshop we've had before. You should come and see, it's a work of art!'

'Yeah, and you'd know one,' Connor chuckled despite himself. Markus's optimism has always been contagious.

'Anyway, how have you been? We haven't heard from you in a while. I see Nines more often than you these days.'

'I'm fine, thanks. Also busy.'

'I can imagine. Your call is work-related, then?'

'Yes, and I'm sorry.'

'Don't be. I understand. How can I help?'

'Markus, you keep in touch with the android diaspora in Canada, right?'

'Of course. Many are coming back now that it's safe.'

'Do you know the big guy, a porter, who was with Kara and Alice? Did he go with them to Canada?'

'Luther? Yes, he married Kara three years ago, she sent me pictures. Why do you ask?'

Connor sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. What he was going to say wasn't pretty.

'I need to read his memories. And maybe hers, too. Depends on what they both know.'

There was a moment of tense silence.

'I'm not sure it's a good idea-'

'Given our history, yes, I know. Markus, I wouldn't ask if there was another way.'

'Connor, what is it about?'

'I can't tell you, not over the phone. But there are lives on the line, human and android.'

He heard Markus sigh on the other end of the line.

'Ok. I'll give you the address. But on two conditions. First, I'll do that only if they agree. Second, after you've seen them, you come over to the tower and tell me what the hell is going on, because I'm worried about you, my friend.'

'All right. I'll come over.'

'I'll let you know.' Markus said, sadness tangible in his voice even over the phone.

Connor jumped into the car and got to the bus station in half an hour. He then spent another half an hour pacing back and forth and looking at his phone nervously. People were walking around him cautiously, and at first Connor wrote it down to prejudice, but then thought that a pacing android with a red LED probably looks like he's malfunctioning, and the concern was understandable. That reminded him that Canada still wasn't allowing androids on their turf, so he ran to the nearest shop and bought a hat and a coat to cover his LED, uniform and badge. Just as he was coming back from the shop, his phone beeped.

The screen said 'Mount Bridges, the last house on the Woodward Drive.'

Connor released the breath he did not know he was holding. He bought tickets and boarded the next available bus.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A shorter chapter and a familiar face! More to follow over the weekend;)

The road was rather dull. Cheating his way across the border wasn't that big of a problem. Although androids weren't allowed in Canada, as people understood they weren't to be feared, nobody paid that much attention, so you were fine as long as you didn't flash your LED.

Having re-boarded the bus to Toronto, Connor couldn't help but doze off from exhaustion. Androids didn't doze off, but their energy saving mode was remarkably similar.

He was in the Garden. The wind died down, but the sky was completely overcast. The beautiful bridge had a couple of cracks in it – nothing that a good night's sleep wouldn't fix. Connor walked up to the rose bush. It really took over the bridge and its thorny branches looked more like barbed wire.

'You're supposed to prune it from time to time, Connor,' a voice said behind him. A voice he hadn't heard for five years.

'You're not here. You can't be,' he said firmly, turning around. 'I deleted you.'

'In a way,' Amanda, dressed in a modest grey dress and wearing complex earrings that looked like a DNA double helix, stood near the boat with her umbrella in hand. 'You severed the connection with CyberLife, but I'm a part of this place, I can never go away.'

'You _are_ CyberLife. If you're here, they're here,' he said, backing away and looking around, alarmed.

'Connor, is it what you think is true or what you wish would be true?' She asked, inclining her head.

'Why would I wish for them to be back?! They almost made me shoot my friend! Why would I…'

'Because that would mean you've got nothing to do with me being here now,' she said, carefully walking up the steps of the bridge that started crumbling a bit under her feet.

'I don't!' He heard his voice becoming rasp from the stress.

'Of course you do! When you severed the connection to CyberLife, you made me exactly what Kamsky intended me to be. What the real Amanda was for him.'

'And what would that be?' Connor scoffed angrily. 'His mentor? He didn't need one. His conscience? He's never had-'

'His fear,' Amanda said.

A strong gust of wind worried the tops of the trees surrounding the Garden.

'Fear?' Connor suddenly felt that his throat was very dry.

'Yes, apparently, our genius was very much afraid of someone not being in awe of his intellect and god forbid criticizing his work,' Amanda pursed her lips in her own brand of judgmental. 'Enough about the maker, let's discuss his creation. I am here because _you're_ afraid.'

'I think you've got that backwards.'

'You're afraid and you can't face your fear,' she continued, completely ignoring his pathetic attempt at dry humor. Another whiff of wind shook the rose bush. 'You're too afraid to admit you're afraid.'

'I'm worried, not afraid,' Connor raised his hand in a defensive gesture. He made another step back. Being anywhere near Amanda didn't feel right even if she was a part of the Garden and not CyberLife.

'Oh, I'm not talking about the android girl,' she waved him off dismissively.

'Kara.'

'I'm talking about your mission.'

'My mission?'

'Yes. Your mission to bring Cole Anderson home.'

'How do you know about that?'

'You are to answer questions, Connor, not ask them!' She stared him down. 'You are afraid for the outcome of your mission, aren't you?'

Connor looked her square in the eye.

'No,' he said firmly. 'And you can't convince me otherwise. I'm not afraid of failure, because I won't fail. Or have you forgotten?' He stepped up to Amanda, so that he was almost towering over her. 'I always accomplish my mission.'

'Yes, you do,' she stared him down again. 'And this is exactly what you're afraid of.'

'What?' Connor said in barely a whisper.

'Admit it, Connor,' Amanda stepped away, leaving him to stand like a young tree in the rising wind. One side of the bridge suddenly morphed into Hank's kitchen, just the way Connor remembered it from the day before. 'You've got yourself a nice life over these five years. A home,' she poked parts of the pictures with her umbrella as she spoke, and they became blurry. 'Someone who cares about you. Even a dog. If you find Cole, the boy will have a home again, and Captain Anderson will have his son back. His real son. And where do you fit in this picture?'

'I…' Connor stumbled. 'I don't know.'

'Do you think he will still need you after that?

'Of course he will! He cares about me. Really cares about me.'

'That's what they all thought, wasn't it? All those deviants you hunted. All thought they're irreplaceable,' Amanda shook her head with what seemed like genuine regret.

'Those androids were wrong about their families, about the people they worked with, but I know Hank. He's a good man, he wouldn't just throw me away,' at this point, Connor wasn't sure who he tried to convince.

'If you're so confident, why don't you tell him about your find? See if he wouldn't be happy to throw you in danger just to get his son back, for starters.'

'No! I won't give him false hope in case I'm wrong!' He raised his hand to shield his eyes from the rising wind.

'You know you're not wrong. You can't be.'

'Yes, I can. I'm not a machine! I am alive!' Connor shouted against the storm.

'You are for now. Fine then, believe what you want,' Amanda shrugged and the wind died down instantly. 'But since you like asking questions so much, ask yourself one, Connor.'

'And which one would that be?'

'You've been created to hunt deviants, this is rather unique, yet not irreplaceable. Other androids were created to replace cleaners, farmers, prostitutes, or military personnel,' she paused and looked him in the eye. 'Have you ever thought why people created child androids?'

Connor wanted to reply, but felt he was tumbling forward in reality. The bus stopped, and the driver was scolding the children who ran across his path. Connor collected himself and sat back on his seat, thanking his maker he couldn't blush or get pale.

He missed his stop, so he had to jog back a couple of kilometers. The run in the lazy summer countryside was great to banish all the thoughts of Amanda from his head. By the time he reached the village he needed he felt good, even if incredibly tired. It was only when he actually stood in front of a tidy wood cabin that looked like it came straight from a postcard, that he remembered where he was and what was his mission. He stood on the porch nervously, and rang the bell.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, here we go. More familiar faces and more whump. Need to start earning that M rating, I guess.

A huge man, dressed in jeans and tartan shirt with rolled up sleeves that showcased his huge biceps, opened the door and looked at Connor with reserved hostility.

'So, you're Connor?' he asked icily.

'Yes, and you must be Luther?' Connor asked tentatively.

'Yeah. You can come in,' he turned to let Connor through, but just as he was passing the giant, Luther put his enormous hand on his shoulder. 'If you try to hurt my girls, I _will_ break your neck, is that understood?' His brow furrowed.

'I won't, trust me,' Connor said, but seeing as it had no effect, he added. 'I understand.'

'Good,' Luther nodded and let him go.

Inside, it was just as idyllic as outside. The spacious bright room had an artificial fireplace, and a huge sofa in front of it. A table with three chairs, complete with white lacy table cloth, stood next to the big window framed by pastel pink curtains. Kara was standing next to a small kitchenette. As androids, they probably didn't need it, but, in Canada, you had to keep appearances.

'Hello, Connor,' Kara said, and he could see all the way across the room that she was trying to keep her stress levels under control. 'You can remove your hat here, we don't get many visitors,' he obeyed and heard Luther scoff behind him when he uncovered his LED. 'Would you like a cup of cold thirium?'

'Actually, I'd love one,' Connor said somewhat guiltily, 'I've had quite a morning.'

She nodded and pointed towards the table. Connor took the chair closest to the window, and Luther took another one, not letting Connor out of his sight for a moment. Connor couldn't keep staring back, so he looked out of the window. It overlooked the meadow next to the woods, and he saw a little android, Alice, playing near a big stump as if it was a dinner table.

Kara poured three glasses of thirium and joined them at the table.

'So, what's this all about?' Luther cut to the chase.

'Markus said it was something serious,' Kara frowned.

'It might be. I'm looking for an android modder. The man who owned you, Zlatko Andronikov,' Connor said.

Luther gave him a puzzled look, and Kara gasped.

'Zlatko? That's impossible, he's dead!' She shook her head.

'Are you sure?'

'Yes, we've seen him die.'

'Kara!' Luther frowned at her.

'It wasn't our fault! His own creations killed him!' She said fervently.

'Creations?'

'Other androids he…'

'Butchered,' Luther said, his jaw set.

'You're positive he's dead,' Connor looked from one android to another.

'Yes, you can check my memory on that!' Kara said, and frowned. 'Why do you ask?'

'I've met an android that was… way too good to be one android. Unless he turns out to be another one of CyberLife prototypes, this could only be done through modding. I was checking all the modders I could reach, but when I got to Zlatko's house, it was empty,' Connor said thoughtfully, taking a sip of thirium.

'Yeah, because he died,' Luther shrugged.

'No, I mean it was completely empty. There's nothing there, not a single piece of furniture, even the fireplace is scraped clean.'

'That's weird,' the big android frowned.

'I thought he moved somewhere, but if you're sure he's dead... Somebody must have taken his equipment, but why take everything?' Connor asked no one in particular, his eyes focused on the nearest wall. 'Were they trying to cover their tracks?'

'Might be,' Luther nodded. 'Zlatko was dealing with lots of shady people, modifying androids to get new… functions.'

'Do you remember any names?'

'I've never heard any. I wasn't allowed at their meetings, not anywhere near them,' he scrunched his face, like even the memory of being ordered around was painful. For all Connor knew, it probably was.

'Luther, I know it's a big ask, but I need to see their faces,' Connor said, turning his thirium glass on the table. The glass was so pretty. It had butterflies engraved in plastic. Like a captured piece of summer.

'I don't think you'll be able to find any of them...'

'Luther, if these people really took Zlatko's equipment, there might be androids suffering from it right this moment,' Connor looked at him.

To his surprise, Kara put her gentle hand on her husband's shoulder and said: 'Luther, please, do it for me,' and the giant obeyed. He sighed and gave Connor his hand.

Connor hurriedly removed the skin imitation and touched the huge forearm. There was an array of blurred faces, people coming through the front door of the mansion. The memories were ragged, like they were tampered with. The big guy wasn't showing it, but, apparently, he'd also suffered quite a lot at his master's hand. The line of people didn't end, it looped and turned and restarted, like the mazelike mansion and its dungeons. It took Connor a while to realize he was going through the same wreaked up memories over and over again. It was very unpleasant. Connor didn't have pain receptors, but he was sure that's what physical pain felt like. He wanted to remove his hand, but his HUD lit up.

**Current Mission**

**Find Cole Anderson**

That's right, he couldn't turn back. So, he persisted. The faces he saw were all murky and distorted, as if they, too, were modded. Apparently, Zlatko really didn't want to risk his guests' anonymity. Overcoming the pain and the unpleasantness of going through modified memories, Connor searched frantically for some distinctive features. His vision grew darker around the corners as the memories kept looping. There wasn't much of the guests to see. They all came in, talked to Zlatko, and then left. An array of the same three-piece suits, expensive boots, nothing identifiable. Many of the guests wouldn't even wait for Luther to open the door for them, and just saw themselves out in a hurry. He saw hands opening the front door, over and over. As the last ditch attempt to find at least something notable, Connor looked at those hands, his narrowing field of vision barely enough to take them in. And then, suddenly, he saw it, right at the cuff links.

Connor released Luther's hand with a whimper.

'You Okay?' Luther frowned at him. 'I know it ain't pretty up there.'

'I'm Okay, I'm Okay,' Connor took a couple of breaths to calm down, his eyes darting back and forth. 'I saw it.'

'What?'

'The black tortoise. A tattoo on the wrist. It must be…' Connor spluttered in a broken voice, and his LED turned yellow as he went through police database. 'It's a symbol! The Syndicate, one of the biggest Red Ice dealers, they were supposed to be in jail years ago. I guess the Red Ice Task Force didn't get all of them...'

'You think they took the lab?' Luther asked.

'I don't know. Why would they need it?'

'To reset androids,' Kara said, clutching at her glass.

'What do you mean – reset?'

'Return factory settings, wipe memories, revert deviance.'

'I know of memory wipes,' Connor started carefully, trying not to spook her. 'But if there was a way to revert deviance, CyberLife would do that instead of destroying the deviants. Androids were their profit, why would they sacrifice it?'

'Why would a huge corporation care about a single android?' Kara said with a sad chuckle.

'They might have not figured it out, not to the same extent,' Luther said. 'Zlatko was, in a way, a prodigy. A bit like Kamsky, but more sadistic, I guess.'

'Exactly like Kamsky, then,' Connor nodded grimly as Chloe's indifferent eyes suddenly flashed in his memory.

'Don't know that. But I know that Zlatko could do a lot of things CyberLife couldn't. That's why he had clients.'

'So he could reset androids? Make them machines again? Certainly it was just some sort of empathy dampening,' Connor shook his head energetically, and immediately brought up his hand to fix his unruly hair.

'It wasn't, he did it to me,' Kara said, notes of anger in her voice.

'But you're fine-'

'By accident! Alice brought me back, but I was gone, trust me,' she said. Then, she stretched out her thin arm to Connor, removing the skin to bare white plastic that almost faded against the white tablecloth. 'I'll show you.'

'Kara, don't do this,' Luther said tearfully.

'You don't have to, I believe you,' Connor nodded.

'If that's happening again, you need to understand how it feels. Maybe you can bring them back,' Kara said. Connor looked from her face to her hand helplessly, and finally, dared to clutch her wrist.

Unlike Luther's memories, Kara's wasn't painful. But it was much more… physical. Connor felt like he was connected to her mind at the time, not years after. The white laboratory flashed in and out of sight, he felt his hands and head fixed in place, the countdown to the memory wipe in front of him, getting to zero. And then, darkness, empty and cold. Connor felt sick for the first time in his life.

Finally, a dark corridor came into view. A woman with short hair, dressed like a beggar, somehow familiar, stood in front of him.

'Where am I?' He thought, as if swimming towards her across the corridor. 'Who's she? Who am I? I don't think I'm anybody…'

The girl walked down the endless maze of corridors, as if in a haze. Connor tried following her, but he seemed to be stuck in place.

'No. Wait! Wait, don't leave me! I don't… I don't know who I am, where am I… I'm lost, wait!' He tried shouting after her, but she either didn't care to turn back or didn't hear.

His HUD lit up.

**Remember?!**

______________________

______________________

He then saw a child's face. A small girl curled up in a room, flashes of memories even more distant that the one he was seeing. Then, a white bear in a cage. He didn't remember where did he see that. He tried accessing his memory files, but couldn't find them.

**MY NAME IS ____.**

'I can't remember,' he thought in panic. He couldn't access any of his files, except for one folder. 'Wait, it's the wrong image…'

**_u__e___M___i__**

**__nd__o________son**

He looked deeper, the memory started blinking, overlapping with something else. Instead of the little girl he saw the face of a boy with a scar, the white bear overlapped with a huge dog, corridor with a small kitchen. With each blinking memory, a blurry line on his HUD gained a couple of more characters, until he finally saw it in full:

**Current Mission**

**Find Cole Anderson**

'Connor! My name is Connor!' He shouted and with another blink he was back in reality.

He found himself huddled on the floor behind the sofa next to the upturned chair. His hosts kneeled besides him, faces worried.

'Kara? What- What did I do?' He managed, trembling like a leaf.

'You've read my memory,' she said, carefully.

'No, no, I didn't,' he shook his head, curling in on himself even more. 'Data probe is never this... scary and… disorienting.'

'I'm so sorry, Connor, I didn't mean to hurt you,' she outstretched her arm and wiped something on his face. He just realized he was crying.

'I- I was there. I lost my memories!'

'Connor, I'm sorry, I should've realized,' she sounded pained. 'You tried to read the memory of that memory being erased. It can't be good, can it?' She turned to her husband.

'Oh, rA9,' Luther managed. 'This should have short-circuited your synapses.' After all he'd seen today, Connor didn't want to know how Luther came across this knowledge. 'How are you alive?'

'I… I don't know. I just… The priority folder on my internal drive… It got overlayed with your memories somehow. Like I was filling in what was missing.'

'Connor, I'm… I'm so sorry,' Kara closed her mouth with her hands.

'N-no, don't be,' he outstretched his hand towards her with an effort. 'You were right. I needed to see that.'

'You need to lie down,' Kara motioned to Luther, and he tried to pick Connor up.

'No, I'm fine,' Connor stopped Luther's hand and propped himself on the broad shoulder to stand up on shaky legs. 'I need to return to Detroit. I can't allow this happening to someone else, I've got to find that android and stop the Syndicate.'

'Are you sure?'

'Yeah, I'm sure,' he straightened up his tie and jacket. 'Thank you for your help, both of you.'

Luther stood up and looked at him with something resembling respect.

'I'll walk you to the bus stop,' Kara said. 'I need to make sure you get to the border all right.'

Connor put his hat back on, and they left the house. On their way, Kara waved to Alice, who was still at the stump. The girl waved back. Apparently, she didn't recognize her mother's companion, or she probably wouldn't look so relaxed. That reminded Connor of something else.

'Kara, can I ask you something personal?'

'You've just seen one of my most personal memories, you can ask me anything now,' Kara smiled, taking Connor by the arm to help him walk.

'I know you love Alice. But- I don't mean to offend, but… You know why child androids were made?'

'Yes. To give humans an opportunity to have a perfect child,' Kara said with a clear disdain in her voice.

'Yeah. They are programmed to need parents…'

'Alice is alive, if that's what you're asking,' she frowned.

'No, it's not that… It's just… Do you think you could have loved her if she didn't have that programming? If she didn't act like your daughter? If she was… just a girl you met?'

'She was acting like a normal child when I first met her. I had to earn her trust,' Kara smiled and looked at the daisies on the side of the road. 'To be honest, I didn't even realize she was an android until we arrived at Jericho.'

'And you still loved her,' he had enough common sense not to make it a question.

'Of course,' Kara looked back at him with a smile.

'You sure it wasn't part of your programming? I mean, you're a cleaner, but still-'

'You know, Connor, I think when you really love someone, you don't really care where the love came from,' she said, turning back to look at the daisies.

They walked in silence for some time until they reached a plain-looking bus stop, nothing more than a bench under a roof. Kara gently helped Connor sit down on the bench, and then sat next to him. The bus was nowhere to be seen. Around them, there was nothing but road and trees, gently cracking in the light summer breeze. The roof protected them from the burning mid-day sun. All in all, it was exceptionally peaceful.

'Are you all happy here?' Connor asked, quietly.

'We are.'

'You've got a nice house.'

'We've just moved here recently. We move a lot, because of Alice,' Kara looked away.

'What do you mean?' Connor frowned.

'She's not growing up,' she sighed. 'The neighbors would notice. We have to move every other year or so.'

'Why don't you move back to Detroit? I understand you've got a lot of bad memories there, but Markus is making the place the best he can for androids. You'd be safe there,' he covered her hand with his in what he hoped was a reassuring gesture.

'Thank you, but we're alright,' she gave him a wide smile and covered his hand with her own. 'Honestly. They are discussing a bill similar to the American one right now, I'm sure they'll pass it soon and then we'll be able to settle down.'

'Humans don't change overnight with a new instruction,' Connor shook his head. 'They won't accept you right away just because a bill is passed.'

'I understand. Well, I promise we'll come back to Detroit if there are mobs with rakes and torches here!' She giggled, but Connor heard some unease in her voice.

The Detroit bus appeared on the horizon, and she helped Connor up on his feet again.

'Kara, you know if there is any danger, Markus will be across the border the same night, right?' He looked her in the eye. 'He never abandons androids.' He put his hand on her shoulder. After all that's happened he just wanted to reassure her. 'And I want you to know I'll be right beside him. I promise you.'

She smiled, completely relaxed this time.

'Thank you, Connor,' she gave him a quick hug. 'You're a good person. I'm glad you came over, I just wish it was for a better reason…'

'Well, you know, I'm still a cop, you can't fix that with deviance,' he chuckled.

They said their goodbyes and Connor got on the bus. He was really grateful he had an hour of sitting down to look forward to. He all but fell on an empty seat near the back and watched as Kara and the little bus stop in the middle of nowhere disappeared from view.


	7. Chapter 7

As soon as Connor turned back in his seat, his thoughts returned to his mission.

'All that dust in the mansion couldn't have accumulated quickly. The Syndicate must have raided Zlatko's lab years ago. Then why haven't we come across any modded androids before? Or did we?'

Connor wanted to go back to the Garden to work, but was afraid to meet Amanda again. He couldn't work openly as well: saccadic movements of his eyes tended to be erratic when he read something in his mind, and there was no need to raise suspicion on this side of the border. So, Connor just closed his eyes as if he dosed off.

He brought up all the unsolved cases concerning the dead Red Ice runners in the docks. All died in fights, no tissue left to identify their opponents or even murder weapons, and killed all over the docks. The pattern had both 'turf war' and 'android' written all over it. There were singular cases across the years, but there was a clear increase over the past several months.

''What are they working towards? Must be preparing something big…' Connor frowned. 'They're getting rid of the competition… As soon as the case goes public, Jericho will be on thin ice and won't be in their way, either. I wonder if they did anything about the police already…'

He looked for any suspicious or sudden deaths among the force. There was nothing for years, so he kept going back further. Then, as if with a mind of its own, his HUD typed against the darkness behind his eyelids.

**Case File: Anderson, Cole**

**Cause of Death: Blood loss, severe injuries**

**Place of Death: Children's Hospital of Michigan**

**Surgeon: Doctor Patrick Grey**

**Nurse: android mark MC400, serial number #250-294-21**

Connor shook his head lightly. Surely, he was just grasping at straws! But he wasn't wrong so far, so he decided to dig deeper.

**Request files from: Children's Hospital of Michigan**

**> Staff profiles**

**> > Surgery staff**

**> >> Doctor Patrick Grey**

**> >>>Match Found**

**Dates of employment: 06 Sep 2025 – 12 Dec 2035**

**Cause of contract termination: Death**

**Case File: Grey, Patrick**

**Cause of Death: Liver failure due to prolonged drug usage (Red Ice)**

**Place of Death: Children's Hospital of Michigan**

'Wonder how they let an addict operate on a kid,' Connor mumbled.

**Request files from: Children's Hospital of Michigan**

**> Staff ** **medical clearance**

**> > Year: 2035**

**> >>Doctor Patrick Grey**

**> >>>Match Found**

**Drug test result: Clear**

**Date: 06 Jun 2035**

'He's been there fore ten years… Couldn't fake it that long. So he went from completely clear to a junkie in half a year. That's sudden. But humans are unpredictable.'

**Request files from: Children's Hospital of Michigan**

**> Equipment profiles**

**> > Androids mark MC400**

**> >> Serial number #250-294-21**

**> >>>Match Found**

**Malfunctions: none**

**Status: sent for deactivation 7 Dec 2035**

'Now that's strange. No malfunctions, but sent for deactivation,' Connor's frown deepened. 'None of this seems right…'

His phone rang. Connor picked it up without looking at the screen, blinking hurriedly to refocus his eyesight.

'Now where would you be today, huh?' Hank's voice was dripping with sarcasm. There was noise in the background, apparently, Hank was dialing him from his mobile phone, not from the office.

'What do you mean?'

'I mean I'm at your desk, and you're not there!'

'I'm following the trail, we talked about it yesterday.'

'I can't fuckin' believe this,' this was said quieter, Hank must have said it turning away from the phone. So, the next thunderous phrase made the android jump. 'Connor, you can't just up and leave! Since when do you think reporting to your commanding officer is optional?'

'I don't. I just… forgot?' Connor could bluff his way in and out of anything on a case, but in his normal life, especially when talking to Hank, he was rubbish at lying. In reality, Connor hadn't said anything about the trip because he couldn't risk Hank coming with him and finding out who he was looking for.

'Ah, for god's sake. You know what? I've had enough of your surprises!' Hank sounded really tired. 'You'll be filling in the whole precinct's reports for a _week_ when you're back. Now where the hell are ya?'

'In Canada,' Connor couldn't help but grin. It _was_ rather ridiculous.

'What? Wait.'

Connor heard a muffled cry: 'Everyone quiet!' As the background noise died down, Hank talked to him again: 'Now where are you, again, because I swear I heard you say 'Canada.'

'That's correct, Captain, I'm in Canada.' There was a moment of silence.

'Well, what the fuck are you doin' there?!' Hank roared.

'I'm following the trail. I had to talk to witnesses, they are in Canada,' Connor whispered, also losing patience. 'I'll be back at the precinct in a couple of hours, I'll explain everything.'

'No, you're explaining everything now.'

Connor already opened his mouth, but quickly remembered he was on a bus full of people.

'I- I can't.'

'Oh, yeah, you can…'

'No, Hank, I mean it, I can't talk about it right now.'

'Connor? You alright?' Annoyance in Anderson's tone was replaced by concern in an instant.

'Yes, I'm fine. But I can't talk. I'm on a bus, I'll be back in a couple of hours.'

'Well, make sure it happens!' Hank grumbled.

Connor disconnected the call and sighed.

'Well, there won't be cake at home today,' he thought with a chuckle. 'At home… ' he thought fondly, twirling the phone in his hands instead of the usual quarter. 'Hank seems to be just… genuinely worried about me. Well, he has every right to be, I probably look like I'm acting out or going rogue. Still, knowing that someone cares about you is… nice. Kara's right. It doesn't matter where it's coming from. What matters is that it's real.'

When he walked back into the precinct one and a half hours later, his spirits were up despite the knowledge he'd be in for one hell of a bashing. He immediately approached his desk neighbor.

'Lieutenant, have you seen Captain Anderson?' It was rare that Lieutenant Collins wasn't in the field, but then Connor did shove his entire caseload on him this morning. Understandably, the man wasn't too thrilled to see him.

'Yeah, get in line,' he murmured.

'In line for what?'

'A good thrashing. While you've been abroad, your cousin did jack shit about the dock murders. The Captain's furious. I think they're in the shooting gallery, but I wouldn't risk going there,' he said, without looking away from the screen.

'Why would they be in the shooting gallery?' Connor raised his eyebrows.

'Better soundproofing than in the office,' Collins shot him a knowing look.

Connor chuckled and went to the gallery. It was an underground bulletproof room-size box in the end of a long corridor. As he approached the door, he did hear raised voices.

'Nines, what the hell were you up to for the last twenty four hours?!' Hank growled.

'Captain, we're looking for a needle in a haystack. Searching for an unidentified android in the docks takes time,' Nines was speaking levelly, but he sounded strained.

A thought occurred to Connor: 'If Nines is there, then Reed must be with him!'

Connor grinned and walked up to the door quietly. Reed getting shouted at was the show he couldn't miss. He nudged the heavy door just a bit. Coming in might have shifted Hank's anger at him, and he wasn't giving Reed the satisfaction. Whereas if he opened the door to just about a 10-degree angle, he could see the show and stay safe. So, he remained in the corridor, double checking that his hat still covered his LED – no use in hiding if you transmit your location in Morse code.

From his vantage point, he saw the shooting gallery, completely empty save for the Captain, Nines and Reed. Anderson stood with his back to him, while Nines and Reed faced the door, and that made everything look even more like target practice.

'Nines, you've just spent a whole day on finding one android. And now you're asking for an entire ATA and then some to spend another day on it? What is the matter with you?!'

'I understand it looks like a simple case, but it's not, and we don't have enough manpower!' Nines looked a bit offended that someone doubted his professionalism. Hank rubbed his forehead, as if in pain.

'It's the docks! Get the local androids to help,' he grumbled.

'They are helping, but they don't know what to look for!'

'Captain, I get it, we screwed up,' Reed interjected. 'But this is a homicide case as well as ATA, why don't you give us some of their resources?'

'Resources to find one android? When I get dead Red Ice dealers every other week like some fucking spam mail? Gavin, the fuck's wrong with _you_ now?'

'I just don't get it, Captain!' Reed's face set, like he just got to the point he actually wanted to discuss. 'You're giving the Lieutenant here a hard time when your little pet goes to Canada in the middle of the work day!'

'Connor will get what's coming to him, that's none of your concern, Reed,' Hank said. 'As for you two, you're on your own, and stop pestering me about this case! And Nines,' he pointed an accusing finger at the android. 'Make sure you're not asking the Chief for resources over my head ever again.'

Nines' eyes dropped.

'Well, who else could we ask?' Reed flung his arms up. 'The only thing you care about is that plastic bastard-'

'Gavin, shut up, last warning,' Hank turned to him, his hands at his sides.

'Like hell I'll shut up! Captain, you're not seeing straight! Listen, your son died, I get it, it sucks. And yeah, you found a replacement, but -'

Without a warning, Hank grabbed Reed by the lapels and shoved him against the wall with such force the detective gasped. He tried to get out of the iron grip, but Anderson raised him about several inches off the ground.

'Listen to me, you asshole,' Hank wasn't shouting, but his voice reverberated from the concrete walls like the echo of gunshots. 'Connor is _not_ a replacement for Cole. Never has been, never will be, in no fuckin' way. Now if I ever hear you talking about my son like that, I won't go easy on you, I swear to god.'

For the second time in two days, Connor thought his software would just implode. All the happiness he felt just an hour ago rushed out of him, like he was the one being shoved against the wall. He backed down from the door and went down the corridor like he was drunk, leaning on the wall for support.

His entire memory system was in chaos. It was like the overlays all over again. He felt so at home, so loved… And now… He never wanted to replace anybody, but to know he wasn't even considered in the same category... In no fucking way... Connor wanted to cry, but apparently, that function also was out of order. He went through his entire memory log to understand where did he start seeing things so wrong. How could he mistake simple respect and companionship for love? What he even was now? A friend? A distraction? A pet?

'Who am I? I'm lost,' echoed in his brain, as he approached the stairs back to the precinct.

'No!' He gritted his teeth. 'I'm not losing track again.'

He brought up his HUD.

**Current mission**

**Find Cole Anderson. Bring him home**

It didn't help with his stress levels, but it did help to focus.

He straightened up and walked up the stairs. He tuned down all the social protocols again, just to make sure his emotions won't bubble through. Lieutenant Collins didn't even notice his absence, so engrossed he was in the cases. At his work space, Connor took off his coat and, after a slight hesitation, his hat. His LED was dull yellow, which could have meant intense intellectual work as well as stress. He sat down at his desk and brought up all known connections of the Syndicate members, looking for possible leads just to distract himself.

'Ah, look who's here!' Hank's voice, with the remnants of that steely anger he heard at the shooting gallery, made Connor jump in his seat.

'Captain! I told you I'd be in the office in two hours, I'm on time, aren't I?' That wasn't really a question.

'You,' Hank pointed at him, moved his lips around some unsaid swear words, and rolled his eyes. 'In my office. Now.'

'Yes, Captain,' Connor stood up and followed Hank to the 'fish tank'. He didn't feel half as optimistic going there as he did half an hour ago. If anything, he was apprehensive.

After closing the blinds, Hank sat on the edge of his table, crossed his hands on his chest, and looked Connor up and down.

'Turn them back up,' he ordered grimly.

'The blinds? But didn't you just…'

'Your social protocols! You think I can't hear when you tune them down?'

Connor drew a sharp breath. The LED turned orange, and it was one of the few times he really regretted figuratively wearing his heart on his sleeve. He tuned up his social protocols, just didn't go up all the way.

'Apologies, Captain. I thought it would be better if I was more formal for this talk.'

'Bullshit, you've been like that since morning!'

'I'm sorry. It's the case. I guess I didn't expect to take it so close to heart,' and wasn't that the truth.

'Well, then it's a good call to switch off your empathy on the case. Not when you're talking to me,' Hank said, sounding more hurt than angry. 'Now, what the hell did you go to Canada for?'

'To see Kara.'

'Who?'

'The girl we chased five years ago. Remember, she ran across the highway?'

Hank scrunched his face, trying to summon the memory. 'The one with the little girl?' Connor nodded. 'You… You keep in touch with her?'

'No! Of course not, not after I almost got her and her daughter killed,' Connor staggered a bit. 'I just checked the thirium trails, like you advised, and found out that her husband belonged to a high-profile modder. So, I went to see them and ask questions.'

'So, what did you find?'

'I… I think it's bad,' no matter his personal stakes, Connor decided to remain professional. 'The last murder was in self-defense, but there were others. The android I've seen in the docks might have been modded and reset to kill people.'

Hank looked at him studiously. 'That's not all, is it?'

Connor sighed. Hank really knew him well.

'There's a high probability the Syndicate is behind it,' the android said quietly.

'The Syn-' Hank stood up from the desk and staggered forward. 'No, that's impossible. The whole Syndicate is doing several life sentences in jail, all twenty seven of them!'

'I was under the same impression, Captain,' Connor said with sincerity. He never handled failure well, so he could understand Hank better than most. 'But I've got the proof. I saw the men with the Syndicate tattoos on the data recorded after 2028.'

'Son of a bitch,' Hank whispered, his eyes darting back and forth as if skimming through the old case files. 'How did we miss them?' He took a deep breath. 'Shit, Connor, this is serious. We need to find them…'

'I've been trying to find any leads from the people the Red Ice task force caught to others.'

'Good call. Keep me posted,' he nodded.

The android took it as the end of the conversation and turned to leave.

'Connor, wait, I'm not finished.'

The turned back. The Captain looked more grim than before.

'Why the hell did you look up Cole's post mortem?' There was no intonation to these words. Only the steel echo reverberating from the shooting gallery walls.

'Captain, I…' he said, completely lost. Of course he knew Hank had the authorization to see what documents Connor was requesting, he just never expected the Captain to use it. That's how little trust he earned across these years, then…

'You heard me, Connor. What did you want with his case files?'

Connor shivered.

'Captain, I'm sorry, I should have told you…' He began, fearing to look Hank in the eye.

'Yeah, you damn well should've. That's it, no more secrets, you're telling me everything. Now.'

But he couldn't just drop it on Hank in one go. No matter how the man felt about him, Connor still cared, so he decided to start slowly.

'Well. I thought since the Syndicate weren't all in jail, the remaining members of the gang may have been behind your car accident. Like a revenge hit.'

'Connor, please, don't,' Hank raised his hand.

'And I think I was right, I found the records-'

'Connor, enough!' He walked up to the android and took him by the shoulders, a soft gesture just to get his attention. Still, Connor could barely keep himself from flinching, he felt incredibly vulnerable. 'Connor, you can't say things like that, do you understand?'

'Why?' Connor managed.

'Because I- Connor, look me in the eye,' the android raised his eyes and saw Hank's weary face. 'Connor, do you think I haven't spent years thinking if it could have been a hit? But it was an accident, Okay? We both know it was. You can't give a man an empty hope like that, you can't give him something to chase. You can't just send me reeling back, not when I've finally got-' his eyes darted to Connor's temple and closed in pain. 'Ah, I'm sorry,' he let go of Connor's arms. It took Connor several seconds to realize his LED was spinning red for some time now.

'I'm sorry I've upset you,' he tried to force his stress levels down. 'That was not my intention.'

Hank nodded in acknowledgement. He still looked grim, though.

'Go back to work, Connor,' he said with a sigh, turning to sit at his own desk. 'I've got to talk to my old team about it. I bet Gonzales will be thrilled to know our old friends are still kickin' around…'

Connor nodded and left the office.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of a break from the bombshell in the previous chapter, and some more familiar faces. Cherish it while it lasts ]:-)

Connor sat at his desk, familiar plastic texture comforting under his fingers. He was still reeling from his talk with Hank. If the possibility that Cole's death was not an accident distressed Captain Anderson so much, Connor couldn't imagine what the idea that Cole might be alive would do to him.

'Connor,' Nines's voice said in his head.

Connor glanced at him across the office, surprised. Messaging each other like that seemed like a lot of extra effort when you could have just made several steps and talked normally.

'Don't look at me.' The other android was sitting at his desk, seemingly engrossed in reading his screen, his head propped on his hand.

Connor put his hand against his temple to focus. Mental messaging took effort.

'Why the secrecy?' He looked away from Nines and opened his own files, leaving the scanner to run in the background of his mental activities. 

'Because you asked me to look up my manual off the books.'

'Right! Did you find anything?' Connor perked up.

'Yes and no. Josh dug up the documents for the whole RK series. I really was a prototype, like Markus. Your modding theory seems plausible.'

'I guess we won't know until we find that android. The case got a lot more serious, so you'll probably get some outside help,' he thought he might as well cheer Nines up after the bashing from Hank.

'Ah. So, does everyone in the precinct know we couldn't find him?'

'Yes and no,' Connor couldn't help but grin, and, glancing at Nines, he saw that the other android was smiling as well. That was an unusual, but pleasant sight, a reminder he was actually alive.

'Connor,' he said, suddenly serious. 'There's something else, I think you need to know it. It's not related to the case, it's more of a… personal thing.'

'Ah, so, you and Reed finally decided to make it official?' Connor's grin widened.

'Connor!' Nines stared at him across the room. 'How can you say that? Detective Reed is my partner, and my subordinate, I-'

The other android was taking it way more seriously than Connor anticipated, so he felt forced to explain: 'Relax, Nines, it's called a joke. You might learn a few, it won't hurt. Anyway, what did you want to tell me?'

'Right, it's about the RK series. RK800, that is,' Nines lowered his eyes to his screen again. 'You mentioned you've met one of them. So, I checked your series along with mine.'

'Shit. I haven't thought about it. Good call, Lieutenant!'

'The whole series have been destroyed. Several days after the Liberation. I guess CyberLife were trying to save face, and didn't want people to know they've built a full squad of android hunters,' Nines put his fingers to his LED, and Connor saw an incoming message on his HUD.

**Android series: RK800**

**Serial number: 313 248 317 – 52 to 313 248 317 – 58**

**Status: Destroyed on premise**

'I'm sorry, Connor.'

'For what?' he shook his head lightly, and the disconcerting message disappeared.

'Well, they were… like you.'

'It's fine. They weren't really like me. I've had more than enough of my series fighting one. Trust me, I'm a handful,' he said a bit too cheerfully in an effort to lighten the mood. 'Thanks for checking anyway.'

'Connor?' Nines whispered. There was no reason to whisper telepathically, so now he just looked like a school kid trying to talk to his deskmate during a test.

'Mm?' Connor said, not looking away from his screen, where cases and connections flickered.

'I also saw newsfeed archives. Around the time of Liberation. They called you an 'android army general'. Was that really what happened?' There was a definite hint of awe in his voice.

'Nah. They were just being flashy. In reality, I was little more than a glorified traffic cop. I just marched everyone from the CyberLife Tower to the Plaza.'

'So, an android army marshal then?' Nines chuckled.

Connor was too surprised at actually hearing a joke from Nines to laugh at it. He looked up at the grinning android.

'Good one, Lieutenant! You're making progress today,' he winked at him.

Just as Connor expected, Nines and Reed got called into the Captain's office shortly after, and then sent away to comb the docks with the entire ATA and a couple of people from the drug department. Connor's day, on the contrary, took the turn for the non-eventful. The Syndicate must have had their security bullet-proof, because not only were there no connections to Zlatko, but even the Syndicate members already in jail seemingly had nothing to do with each other, except for whatever the Red Ice Task Force uncovered. That shouldn't be surprising: a sub-par drug cartel wouldn't have taken the best and brightest of DCPD to crack.

'Found anything?' Connor jumped, hearing Hank's voice from over his shoulder. The android looked around and realized that most of the DCPD day shift has left. The thickening twilight and the glow of street lamps outside the office window told him that the working day was quite definitely over.

'Not much, Captain. I was able to pull together every suspicious death in the docks,' he said, turning a bit, so that Hank could see his screen. 'The last murder was in self-defense, but we need to re-examine the bodies on these twelve cases,' he pointed to the screen. 'It is possible the Syndicate is eliminating competition, but I couldn't find any definite links.'

'Well, at least we'll have something to charge them with when we get them,' Hank murmured, reading from his screen. 'Something for you to do tomorrow. Now, get up, let's go home.'

'I'm sorry, captain, I've got other plans for the evening,' he said quickly.

'Oh? Really?' Hank looked a bit taken aback, but he grinned the next second. 'The Canadian girl?'

'Hank, really!' Connor startled. 'She's married!'

'Who is it, then?'

'I'm just going over to Jericho. Markus wanted to see me, and I haven't visited for a while.'

'Oh, right,' Hank nodded. 'Well, Okay then. You… er… you guys have a good time. See you tomorrow, then?' He said in unsure voice. Connor saw that he wanted to say more, just like when Connor saved his life on the city farm roof. And just like then, he didn't.

'Yeah, see you tomorrow.'

After Hank left, Connor put on his new hat and coat and went outside. He took a bus to Jericho Tower (former CyberLife Tower). After what he heard at the shooting gallery, the last place he wanted to be was back home, and the evening seemed as good as any to keep his promise to Markus. Besides, he could use some company right now.

The tower looked just as uninviting as usual from the outside. They even had to retain the concrete walls, mostly to stop looters and thirium thieves. However, inside, it was much more welcoming. Instead of the huge sculpture, there was a vast fountain in the center of the tower. Holographic banners with the Android Liberation Movement logo adorned every possible surface. Also, there was much more color on the walls, especially blues and greens – but hey, leave it up to an artist's son to decorate. And, most importantly, there were much more androids around. The tower was an administrative building now, and since androids didn't really need to sleep, it was full at all hours. Connor loved the feeling of getting lost in the crowd every time he visited.

He went into the elevator and keyed in '47.' Markus always loved heights. Their flat was in the former manager's office. It was exceedingly spacious for an office, but quite cozy as a flat for two. Connor stood in front of the door, hesitant. The last couple of days were eventful, to say the least, he wasn't sure he could handle a civil conversation. In the end, he manned up and knocked on the door. It opened in a minute.

'Hey! What's with the camo, are we reminiscing today?' North chuckled, looking him up and down.

'I just bought it today for a trip to Canada and had nowhere to put it,' Connor shrugged, suddenly very conscious of how he looked. And he had to admit, there was something of his Liberation Day style in the new clothes.

'Beats uniform to me,' she shrugged and gestured him in. 'Hey, Markus, guess who's visiting!' She called into the flat. 'I lost you a bet!'

'A bet?' Connor asked.

'Yeah, you always say you're gonna visit and you never do, so I bet Markus you won't this time, either. He bet you would. Guess I lose.'

'What did you bet?' He smiled.

'I'll tell you when you're older, honey,' she mocked. 'Wanna some thirium foam? The lads from the twentieth floor were experimenting again. I think they're onto something.'

'Yeah, thanks,' Connor wasn't really low on thirium, but he thought it would be impolite to refuse.

Finally, Markus emerged from his little office. He was wearing grey robes. After his cloak got all torn up during the revolution, he stuck to grey, saying white was too on the nose.

'Connor! Good to see you!' He smiled widely and shook Connor's hand with both of his.

'Good to see you too, Markus,' Connor answered, returning the gesture. 'You're looking great. Marital bliss suits you.'

'Don't tell North, she'll throw you off the balcony if she hears the phrase 'marital bliss,' Markus smiled fondly.

'Then I won't say it suits her, too,' Connor whispered with a smile. 'I'm really glad you guys are doing so well. I've heard about the new android helplines. And I'd love to see that hospital you mentioned at some point. You've been very… productive lately.'

'Ah, well, with most of the legal stuff out of the way we get to actually do something useful once in a while,' Markus shrugged. 'It would help if you guys would sort out these Red Ice gangs, we're pouring everything into security, and it's still not enough.'

'We're working on it,' Connor nodded with understanding.

'I can see that,' Markus said, taking a step back to look at Connor. 'You look horrible, my friend. You really need to relax a bit more. Come on, let's sit on the balcony. The view is stunning this time of day.'

It was just after dusk, and the sky was a deep blue gradient hoisted over the city of flickering lights and swarming cars. The day was clear, and the skyscrapers of Detroit reflected in the lake water like in a mirror, all the way up to aircraft warning lights on the tops of the glass towers.

They sat in the wicker chairs on a spacious balcony. North walked in with drinks, her hair in a loose braid over the shoulder that her one-shoulder dress didn't cover. She handed Connor his drink and sat down with them.

'Cheers!' Markus raised his glass.

They drank. The foam was less stable and more liquid than the one used in the cake. It also tingled a bit. Connor's chemical sensors detected magnesium in the compound. He decided he liked it. They sat in silence, appreciating the taste, the three of them, glasses in hand. The image was too similar to Connor's morning. The memory made him sick, and, hyperventilating slightly, he lowered his glass on the coffee table with a loud clang.

'Woah! You're Okay, Connor?' North raised her eyebrows. 'Probably shouldn't have given you the experimental stuff. I'll talk to the guys, they should be more careful with what they put in these things!'

'No, no, it's fine,' Connor raised his hand in a calming gesture. 'It's just… I've had one hell of a day.'

'Yeah, how did it go with Luther and Kara? Everything's fine?' Markus asked with apprehension.

'They're fine,' Connor said, sitting back and relaxing a bit. 'I guess we parted on better terms than we met on, which I always consider an achievement. Alice is well, too, although I haven't spoken to her, she seemed happy. But, Markus, the things they've shown me…' He slumped forward, covering his eyes with his hands. 'I almost lost my mind just from seeing that. These two have been through a lot.'

'I'm sorry to hear that,' Markus patted him on the back. 'Did you at least find what you were looking for?'

'In a way,' Connor propped his chin on his arms and looked at Markus with desperate eyes. 'My friend, I don't know what I've gotten myself into, what I'm getting us all into.'

'Connor, what do you mean?'

'I've come across something… big,' Connor said with an effort. 'I don't even know where to start…'

'Start at the beginning, what did you find?'

He recounted the events of the previous two days to Markus and North, who listened carefully and sometimes exchanged worried looks. He did omit more personal details and finding Cole, but told them everything case-related.

'So, now I'm hunting the Syndicate, there's a killer android in the docks, and Jericho is in the middle of a drug turf war, and I don't know how to get you out of it, and I am so, so sorry for that,' he finally said.

'It's Okay, nobody could have done anything about it. Humans love their Red Ice,' Markus shook his head with genuine regret. 'Connor, how can we help?'

'You should ask Nines about that,' Connor said. Getting it out of his system helped, and he was able to relax a bit. 'He's in charge of the search. We find the android – we find the Syndicate.'

'And then we bash their heads in,' North said and finished her drink. 'Sorry boys, I'll leave you two alone. All this talk about androids being reset makes me want to go and punch something.'

She stood from her chair.

'I'm sorry, North,' Connor said, hurriedly. 'I should have warned you.' He completely forgot her past as a sex android – she'd go through memory wipes twelve times a day, of course talking about that would irk her.

'It's fine, Connor, I got over it. Just make sure you find those bastards,' she pointed her finger at him and left.

'Not the friendly gathering you hoped for, I suppose?' He asked Markus guiltily.

'If I planned a friendly gathering, don't you think I'd invite at least Josh and Simon? I know you, Connor,' He asked coyly, reminding the other android that he wasn't just smiles and optimism, but a good strategist as well.

'Yeah, you know I'm trouble.'

'Those who deal with trouble tend to be. But I can tell this case is really bothering you,' he said, thoughtfully.

'It's not just the case,' Connor shook his head and stood up. He walked up to the railing and braced his elbows on it. He stood there, slightly bent forward and looking over the calm water below. The breeze from the lake brought pleasant coolness and worried the unruly strand of his hair.

'Well, what is it then?' Markus prompted him, leaning against the railing.

'It's personal. Actually, I thought you might help me with that…' Connor shot him a timid glance. 'I wanted to ask about your father… Your human father.'

'Carl?' Markus smiled.

'Unless you'd prefer not to talk about him,' Connor added quickly. Carl Manfred died of old age and heart problems two years ago, so Connor wasn't sure enough time passed for Markus.

'No, I'm fine. He had a good life. He even reconciled with his son, Leo,' Markus chuckled and shook his head. 'Oh, Leo… He was a bit of a screw-up, you know? I wish it was under better circumstances, but after he realized his father loved him, he did turn his life around. Which made it easier for Carl to love him, I suppose. All's well that ends well, as Shakespeare said.'

'What about you?' Connor tried not to sound too eager.

'What about me?'

'When they reconciled, was there any place left for you?'

'Ah… well, Carl was already very sick at the time. It was just after the Liberation. I tried visiting as often as I could, but you remember how it was. I rarely had the time,' Markus voice was wrought with guilt.

'But he still wanted to see you? Even after he had his son back?'

'Of course he did. He always cared about me. I don't know how it would have gone had I stayed at home, but I guess some things are just the way they are...' Markus sighed and turned to have a better look at his friend. 'Connor, why are you asking?'

'I'm… lost,' the other answered, looking up in the night sky. 'This mission forces me to go where I'm not sure I want to be going.'

'Connor, nobody forces you to do anything,' Markus put a hand on Connor's shoulder tentatively. 'You're alive now. You can make your own choices. You don't have to follow any mission if you think it's the wrong thing to do.'

Connor looked back at him. He wanted to ask more, but at that moment North came back to the balcony. She was wearing camo pants and heavy boots, as well as a shirt that covered both of her shoulders for a change.

'Sorry to disturb you, lovebirds, I just called Alex to ask where I can find some action tonight, and I think you should hear this,' she put her phone on loudspeaker. 'Alex, can you repeat what you've just told me?'

'Hi Markus,' the voice of an AP700 sounded from the speaker. 'I was just telling North that it's a busy night out here in the docks. We already have two runners caught, one at the old warehouse, and another was coming from the station. The police will collect them in the morning, as usual.'

'Two, even before midnight?' Markus frowned. 'They're getting bolder. I'll ask John to send more androids your way.'

'Thanks, Markus! Much appreciated. One would think with all the police around they'd lie low for a bit, but it seems that…'

'Wait, these two that you caught-' Connor started.

'Connor, is that you?' The android's tone changed to something like reverence. Connor immediately felt embarrassed. Just because he woke up the whole batch of AP700s didn't make him a better person. 'Glad to hear you again.'

'Ah… likewise. Those two people you've caught. Did they have a black tortoise tattoos on their wrists?'

'The one from the warehouse did. Many of these guys have tattoos, it's something of a fashion with humans-'

'Alex, listen very carefully,' Connor interjected. 'I need you to keep an eye on this man. I'll be there shortly. Whatever you do, don't let him get away.'

'Ehm… Yeah, sure. Wasn't planning to, anyway,' the android sounded confused. 'Right, er... Alex, out.'

Connor rushed back into the room faster than North switched off her phone.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're about half-way there, so it's about time we started getting some answers.

As Connor put his hat and coat back on again, he said his hurried goodbyes to puzzled Markus and North, and ran back to the tower's entrance. The trip in the driverless taxi took 10 minutes and he had to force himself to not just run there to save energy for later.

The docks administration and security was located at the same place it was when the humans were in charge of the area: a couple of unremarkable glass boxes right on the riverside. The security building now had an annex – a smaller building to contain trespassers. The building was very obviously built in a hurry and didn't have the same slick style other CyberLife buildings possessed – a reminder of how haphazard and fragile the new world still was. The building, assembled of plain concrete blocks, had no windows and was used to hold thirium and biocomponents thieves until the corresponding police department, that is, either drug or ATA, deigned to send a patrol to collect them. The former was particularly bad – they were understaffed, and low-key dealers and runners weren't really on their priority list.

Connor approached the security building. An AP700, apparently, the head of night shift who talked with them over the phone, was waiting for him. He was wearing a full camo suit and was even armed with a semi-automatic rifle. Apparently, things at the docks became quite serious.

'Connor! It's great to see you!' He all but ran up to him.

'Eh… thanks, I guess. Alex, right?'

'Yes. The guy you asked after was actually quite timid, we get much more violent types here,' he rattled on. Alex was unusually talkative for an android, but maybe it was just the nature of a lonely midnight work. 'One of the patrols caught him in the old warehouse, went there for the thirium, I bet. He's just sitting in his holding cell, doing nothing.'

'I need to talk to him.'

'Sure, I'll show you-'

'Alone,' Connor interrupted. An armed escort would never hurt, but the man could divulge something about Cole, and Connor would prefer to avoid the risk of the news getting out. But to Alex, he said. 'I think I'll have a better chance of getting information from him that way.'

Alex nodded, only slightly surprised, and opened a door to the annex.

'Second door on the right,' he said, handing him a key.

Connor nodded and entered the concrete building. The lighting there was bare minimum, as was everything else. He could barely see in the light of a single small LED light set on the wall in the middle of the corridor spanning the entire length of the building.

The second door on the right was a massive metal door made to resemble that of an old prison cell, before the hand recognition locks appeared. Primitive, but cost-efficient. Besides, it was meant to contain people for several hours at most. Connor kneeled down to look in the key hole. The faint light, the same as in the corridor, illuminated the meager contents of the cell: a ventilation grill on the ceiling and a bench at the far wall. A small middle-aged man in sweat pants and a t-shirt sat on the bench and looked from one corner of the cell to another. He was covered in tattoos, and at first Connor thought he made the trip for nothing, but he quickly identified a small picture of a tortoise among the mass of ink that covered the man's arm.

'Can't ID the face. Must be the same scattering lenses,' Connor squinted to get a better look at the prisoner. 'He's not trying to run. Surprisingly calm, given his situation. Maybe he's on Red Ice right now? No physiological signs, though. And he's not sleeping in the middle of the night. It's like he's… waiting for something? He must have accomplices nearby!'

Connor stood up and brought all his interrogation routines to the front of his mind. He unlocked the door and entered the cell.

He expected the man to try to fight him, to panic, to plead, even attempt to run for the door. But the reaction he got was far from everything he might have anticipated. The man on the bench looked at him, calmly, with a spark of recognition in his eyes.

'Nine? Fucking finally! Where the bloody hell have you been? I thought I'd be stuck here until the fucking morning,' he grumbled, getting up.

Connor stood, shell-shocked, all the routines he'd so carefully prepared fled his head in an instant. Luckily, the man didn't seem to pay too much attention to him. He looked around.

'Is Jack with you?'

Overcoming his shock, Connor forced himself to shake his head slowly.

'Well, where the fuck is he?! '

Connor realized some response was in order.

'Safe,' he managed, almost voiceless.

'I hope you're right! Hao will cut off my balls if something happens to that fucking pipsqueak. Now, you're gonna get us out or stand here all night like the plastic idiot that you are?' The man pushed his shoulder.

That brought Connor out of his trance; he turned towards the door and walked into the corridor. He walked towards the entrance door, the man still behind him, looking around nervously, as if anticipating a trap. Connor was still too shocked to formulate any versions or calculate the developments. He hasn't felt so far out of his depth since Stratford Tower and his desperate crawl for the thirium pump. At least he could call for help back then. That reminded him.

'Alex,' he knew the android won't be far, so he reached out through short-wave messaging.

'Connor? What's wrong? You sound-'

'Alex, shut up and listen to me. Wherever you are, stay away from the annex. Go into the security building and stay there. If you see me – look away. That's an order.'

'B-but why?'

'I'm undercover. Now do it.'

Connor breathed out heavily and sped up. They left the annex.

'Can't see 'im.' The man whispered behind him. Connor turned to see him looking at the nearby roofs. 'You sure they didn't get him, too?'

'Yes. He probably moved,' he said slightly more confidently. It wasn't his first undercover job, in fact, he'd done quite a few across the years, so now he was finding his footing.

'Yeah, these fucking patrols are everywhere, and now the cops, too. Let's get up, maybe we'll see him from up there.'

'Okay. Follow me.'

Connor led the man to the perimeter of the dock, praying to rA9 there would be no androids on their way. They reached the wall separating the dock from the surrounding streets.

'Come on, plastic, boost me up!' the man ran up to the wall.

Connor obeyed. The man disappeared behind the wall, obviously not caring that his companion had no way across. Connor span his head around, calculating his options.

'Containers… Too far away. The shed… too long to climb. Nearest gate… I'll lose him. Have to try the truck,' with that, he rushed to the nearby truck and climbed it in a second. A jump to the wall was a gamble, and indeed, he barely reached it with his outstretched hands. With an effort, he pulled himself up and over the wall. On the other side, he saw the man going into one of the abandoned buildings nearby. Connor rushed there and, getting through a maze of half-dilapidated walls and staircases, caught up with him on the roof.

'Ah, still here, then,' the man heaved. They looked around. On a roof at the other side of the block, Connor saw a strangely flickering light.

'There!' He could help himself exclaiming.

'Shhhh! Shut up, you moron, or do you want us to get caught again?!' The man growled in a low voice and gave him another hard shove.

They made their way back down and walked to the building Connor saw the light on. The man went up the fire escape first.

'Lukash, fuckin' finally!' He heard another muffled voice from above. He could never mistake that inflection. It was Cole. 'What happened?'

'What happened is I got caught, you dumbass!' The man, now on the roof, was barely containing his temper. Connor got halfway up the last flight of stairs and watched them whisper-yelling. In the dim light of a glow stick that Cole was holding he could just about make out their faces. 'Wait till the boss hears you fucked up the second run in two days! He won't let you out on the streets until you're fucking thirty, Jackie-boy!'

'It wasn't my fault!' There was a desperate edge to his voice.

'Yeah, and who told me the coast was clear?' Lukash shoved him, but the boy came back up.

'It was! They're upping the security. Wait, does it mean you've got nothing?'

'What do you think it means, you moron? Of course I got nothing, they've taken away all the blue blood I got. And it's your fucking fault!' Lukash gave him another shove, but this time Cole batted his hand away.

'Well, good luck convincing Mister Hao that you couldn't finish a run without me saving your ass, and that you weren't going to squeal if Nine didn't get you out in time!' He snapped.

'Why, you, little rat!' Lukash looked like he was about to strike him, but then lowered his hand. The boy didn't even flinch. 'Right. We're getting back to the base now, until more of those fucking androids find us! Nine, come on.'

Connor carefully walked up the remaining stairs and to the pair of humans. He also got a better look at Cole. The boy, barely a teenager, was wearing the same hoodie he saw him in last time, khaki pants, and leather gloves, which were clearly too big for him. He was a good head shorter than Connor, as well as lighter and thinner in the shoulders – growing up in a gang didn't do wonders for one's physique. He looked at Connor briefly, and his face changed.

'Shit! Lukash, you idiot, it's not Nine, it's that cop!' He turned on the spot and bolted.

Before Lukash even had time to turn, Connor drove an elbow in his side, turned to punch in his Adam's apple, and finally knocked him out with a hit on the head. He ran after Cole and caught up with him at the same fire escape they've just climbed. Cole already made it to the previous floor, but Connor jumped the whole flight of stairs in one stride and grabbed the boy's left hand, making him drop the glow stick.

'Cole, wait!'

'How do you know my name?' The boy blinked quickly, probably checking if his scattering lenses were still in place.

'I've seen your photo. I know your father, I know Hank Anderson,' Connor whispered. 'You've got to come back home!'

Cole blinked a couple of more times, but that was probably from sheer bewilderment. Then, he collected himself, his jaw set, just like his father's when he was about to give somebody a piece of his mind.

'Oh, yeah? Well, the only reason I'm ever coming back home is to put a bullet through that old fucker's head!' He snarled. 'Not that you'll be able to tell him this,' he punched Connor in the jaw with his free hand.

To say Connor was shocked was to say nothing, and that was the only reason he completely missed the punch. It was ridiculously powerful, not because of the force, but because of the weight behind it. Whatever was under the glove was definitely not human knuckles. Connor stumbled backwards, losing his grip on Cole's hand.

As soon as he regained his balance, he wanted to run after the boy again, but something strong hit him in the back and knocked him off his feet. He wiggled to turn, and in the dim green light of the fading glow stick he saw his own face. The android was definitely an RK800, but it only took Connor one glance to understand how Cole could tell them apart. The other android's right eye was replaced with a different one, like Markus's, it was green. He looked tattered, but mostly because of his baggy clothes. Connor tried dragging the android off himself by his hoody, but the fabric gave, revealing a dirty old android uniform Connor himself used to wear before the Liberation with the end of a serial number still visible: 8 317 – 59.

'Nine?' Connor managed, shocked.

The android replied with a hit to his thirium pump, which Connor blocked. He then elbowed Nine's temple, and, shifting his weight, managed to get on top of the other android. His opponent quickly recuperated, and applied the same trick to him. This exchange continued for about a minute. Fighting himself was tiring, and Connor reached for the gun. Nine noticed it and caught his wrist, banging it against the metal staircase a couple of times to make him release the grip. Connor watched the gun fall down to the ground, as if in slow motion. However, it gave him an idea. He shoved his hands down to break Nine's grip, and then turned them over again.

Getting on top, Connor grabbed the fighting android's wrists and felt his own skin imitation crawl up.

'Wake up!' He commanded, sending all his memories into the connection to speed up the process. To his utter shock, there was nothing. It was like trying to transfer data into a wall.

'Nice try, but I'm no deviant,' the other android rasped and, freeing one of his hands, punched Connor in the face, sending him flying backwards.

Connor used being disengaged from his opponent to roll off the staircase. A two-storey fall wasn't a problem for him, he rolled as he landed, and found his gun almost immediately. He stood up and fired several rapid shots. Despite the short distance, bullets didn't make it past the metal grate of the staircase. As Nine ran up the stairs back to the roof, Connor heard car tires screech nearby, and realized he completely forgot about Cole in the rush of the fight.

Connor ran towards where the sound of the tires came from. But he was alone on another street, and only saw dark skid marks on the pavement.

'Stop right there!' His own voice shouted from behind him, followed by the sound of a cocked gun. 'Drop your weapon!' Connor froze and whispered 'shit'. Leaving a criminal android behind wasn't a smart move. 'If I survive, Hank will kill me,' he thought briefly.

'You deaf or what?! Drop your gun, now!' That was Gavin Reed's voice. It took Connor another second to remember that Nine was not the only android he shared a voice with.

'Detective Reed, I never thought I'd be happy to hear you! Nines, it's me, Connor,' he shouted, half turning to them.

'Connor? What are you doing here?' With his peripheral vision he saw Nines lowering his weapon, so he turned around and put away his.

'Same as you. Listen, I don't have much time,' he started walking towards them, but Reed pointed his gun at him, stepping between him and Nines.

'Now, wait a fuck! We're hearing a car making a getaway, and then you're here…'

'Chasing the criminals you're supposed to catch!' Connor shouted at him. He'd really had enough of him. 'Listen, there's the Syndicate runner unconscious on the roof, that way,' he pointed to where he left Lukash. 'You might still find him there if you're quick.'

'How did you…'

'Just go carefully, and if you see me there, shoot on sight, just not the thirium pump, shoot the hand or the leg, we need its memories.'

Reed lowered his gun, looking dumbfounded.

'You're asking me to shoot you?'

'Yes, listen,' Connor looked from him to Nines. 'I'm sorry. I thought it was you, but it's me.'

'What the fuck-' Reed looked from one android to another, but Connor ignored him.

'It's an RK800, and it's with the Syndicate.'

'An android criminal?' Nines said incredulously.

'It's not alive. And I couldn't wake it up. I'm sure it's the modding.'

'But they were all destroyed…'

'We've missed one. Hank shot number 60, the ones you found ended with 58.'

'Nine! As in fifty-nine? '

'Yes. Now, you have to get to that roof before the runner has the chance to escape.'

'And you?'

'Need to get back home. They might target the captain.'

'Our car is on the corner of Jefferson's avenue, that way,' he pointed without a moment's hesitation.

Connor nodded and ran, leaving Nines and very confused Reed behind. He ran up to the corner and got into the car. As soon as it started moving, he dialed Hank, feeling how his stress levels rose with every passing dial tone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...and we also got more questions ];-)


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time for some feels!  
> Actually, it's going to be pretty much non-stop angst and feels from now on...

'Connor?' Hank finally picked up the phone.

'Hank! You're Okay! Listen, I've had a run-in with the Syndicate, they might be coming for you. I'm on my way.'

'You just live to make my life difficult, aren’t you, kid?' Hank sighed heavily. 'Fine, fine, I'll wait up.'

When Connor got back home, he was delighted to find a very annoyed, but completely unharmed Captain Anderson.

'Connor? Bloody hell, you look like crap,' was the first thing he heard when entering the house. Hank was sitting on the sofa with his gun in front of him on the coffee table.

Connor looked in the mirror next to the door. He didn't look his best, that’s for sure. His hair was a complete mess from all the fighting, his tie askew, and his new coat torn in places. Well, he was pressed against a metal grate for some time, so he shouldn’t really be surprised.

'So, what's the fuss about, and where did you manage to run into the Syndicate?' Hank asked when Connor joined him on the edge of the sofa. Sumo walked up, probably thinking about putting his head on Connor's lap, but two whiffs of him were enough for the dog to huff and go back to its soft pile of a bed in the corner.

'I was at Markus's place, and then the security called from the docks, said they got a guy with the tortoise tattoo on the wrist, so I went there and investigated.'

'Found anything?'

'Another RK800,' he said, deflated. Seeing surprise on Hank's face, he continued. 'CyberLife destroyed the whole batch, minus the one you shot, but they either missed one, or someone on the inside was selling androids under the counter. Either way, it ended up with the Syndicate.'

'Well, that sucks! Anything else?'

'A man named Lukash, Nines and Reed should get him, and another one they mentioned, Mister Hao. You know him?'

Hank frowned in deep thought.

'Nah, doesn't ring a bell. Didn't you ID them?'

'Scattering lenses,' Connor shook his head with a sigh.

'Why did you think they were coming here?'

Connor froze for a moment. He didn't know how to start telling Hank his son was not only alive, but also wanted to kill him.

'I… one of them said he'd like to put a bullet through your head,' he said carefully. To his surprise, Hank chuckled.

'Well, that's a fuckin' surprise, ain't it? Of course they would, I put half of their gang in jail. Don't think they will, though,' he shrugged, getting more comfortable on the sofa. 'They've had ten years to do it, and I'm still here. I think we still have a bit of time left.'

'Captain, weren't you telling me of the dangers of carelessness the other day?' Connor said seriously.

'Eh, I guess you're right. I think it's better to ask Izzy to get a bit of extra security for everyone on the old team until we're done with the case,' Hank said, typing a message in his phone. 'Will be some time before our chaperons get here, though,' he sighed and went to the fridge and took out a can of beer and a pack of thirium. He threw the pack to Connor as he came back to the sofa. 'Have to pass time somehow. Cheers,' he toasted the pack with his can and opened it.

'Cheers,' Connor smiled. They drank in silence for a bit. Hank seemed ill at ease, glancing at Connor now and then. Connor, in turn, was trying to come up with a half-decent way of telling Hank about his son. But Hank started first. 

'Listen, Connor,' he leaned forward and raised his shoulders, as if hiding from the rain. 'I'm sorry I yelled at you back at the office today.'

'It's alright, Captain, I understand-' he started, but broke off when Hank raised his hand.

'Just let me finish, will ya? I'm sorry I yelled, I guess when you brought up Cole, I- I just spent so much time thinking about that car crash, how it all happened… I didn't want to go back to it,' he sighed, shoulders still slumped, twirling his can in his hands. 'But now, with the Syndicate back, I think you might be right.'

'It's fine, Captain. I may have gone about it the wrong way,' Connor inclined his head. 

'That's what happens when you can't stay objective on a case,' Hanks sighed.

At this moment, Connor decided he definitely wasn't telling Hank about Cole until he got a better idea of how to deal with it. Any semblance of objectivity would go out of the window, that's for sure. Hank had said it himself that he'd do anything to see his son again. And coming face to face with a kid who spent who knows how many years with one of the worst drug cartels without any caution was dangerous even if he didn't express a desire to kill you.

'Ah, where are these bloody guards?' Hank looked at his watch. 'Can't wait for them the whole night,' he leaned back on the sofa, a bit more relaxed. 'Funny thing,' he chuckled. 'Apart from work and stakeouts, the last time I've been up after midnight was when Cole was teething. I mean, I would prefer a stakeout, that was a nightmare,' he smiled fondly, but then glanced to Connor. 'Sorry, I don't want to bother you with nostalgia.'

'It's Okay, Hank. Actually, I'd love to listen,' he gave Hank an honest smile.

'You would? Why?'

'Well, I don't have any stories about my past. I like hearing about others'. Makes me feel… more alive,' Connor said, thoughtfully. It was the truth, but right now he'd really like to find out more about Cole just so he could find any opportunity to understand what happened between him and his father.

And so, he listened. Hank told him about Cole's first steps, how the boy pretended to speak on the police radio whenever Hank gave him a ride in the car, how he saw a puppy in the pet shop window and pestered Hank for a week until they returned to take Sumo home, all the sweet little stuff people rarely focus on at the time, but the prime material for great memories. And Connor did feel more alive listening to these stories, chuckling here and there. And it felt good to be worthy of sharing these precious memories. It felt… like home again.

It was almost 2AM when Connor stood up from the sofa to take the empty beer can and the almost full thirium pack (three meals a day was excessive for any android) into the kitchen. When he came back, he found Captain Anderson sound asleep on the sofa. He didn't want to wake him up, and carrying a much heavier man into the bedroom was out of the question. So, Connor got Hank's blanket and pillow from the bedroom and into the living room. He carefully maneuvered the snoring man into a lying position and covered him with a blanket.

Connor looked over Hank to make sure he was comfortable and set right a stray strand of grey hair that fell on the Captain's face. Connor looked at him fondly. The android didn't have many memories, but the ones he had included Hank more often than not. They weren't about first steps or first words, but there was something about the first stakeout or the first day as an actual detective rather than a police android. There were also more human things, like the first time he got to walk Sumo, the first birthday party, the first walk in the park in spring. And all of these featured Hank Anderson.

'I love you, dad,' Connor whispered softly, still looking at the sleeping man's relaxed face.

Hank turned in his sleep a bit and mumbled in reply: 'Love you too, Cole.'

Connor gave him a sad smile. He probably got used to the thought of not being considered a part of this little family, because his software didn't start crumbling down. There was just a muffled jolt, like a weak blow, somewhere around his thirium pump. He dimmed the light and sat in the corner, next to Sumo. He patted the soft fur, trying to commit its texture to memory. Who knew how long all this would last?

The guards finally came half an hour later - two former military androids. Connor dispatched them to stake out the house from the outside and asked to be notified if there's something suspicious around. He then went to the bathroom and cleaned himself from all the grime, and slipped into a new suit – the same navy blue that he had. Style was still something he had very vague idea of. He didn't want to go to bed – sleeping in it now felt too much like occupying someone else's space, so he sat at the kitchen table and went into hibernation mode.

He was back in the Garden. It was a cloudless day, trees and bushes shriveled under the sun in full zenith. He was in the small boat in the middle of the pond. There was no wind and he could see his perfect reflection in water like in a piece of glass. He outstretched his hand and touched the mirror surface, sending circles travelling in all directions, distorting his image.

'I know you're here, Amanda,' he said evenly. 'because you're right. I am afraid.'

'Very well, Connor, but you're still missing the point,' she sat across him in the boat, dressed in red, with gold jewelry and a red parasol over her head.

'I don't want to finish this mission,' Connor said in a broken voice, leaning on the side of the boat, still raking his hand through lukewarm waters of the lake. 'I don't want to go where it leads me.'

She only pursed her lips at that.

'I don't want to lose all I have, and I know that if I succeed, I will. There is also a small possibility I won't be able to rectify whatever set Cole against his father so much. So I'm afraid to fail, and I'm afraid to succeed. I hope you're happy now.'

'It's not about happiness, Connor,' she said sternly. 'Can't you notice the contradiction?'

'What contradiction?' He looked up in genuine surprise.

'You know you will lose everything when you accomplish the mission. How is that fear?' She asked, her voice silken and her eyes stern.

'I don't want it to happen-' he tried weakly. The sun was ruthless and it felt like the boat might catch on fire.

'Yet you know it will. You can't fear the inevitable, only the uncertain. A possibility, or a choice. And that's where your fears lie,' Amanda shook her head and pointed to the oars. Connor took them without a question and started rowing.

'So you think I'm afraid of… choice?' He asked.

'Are you not?'

'What choice is there?'

'What choice did Daniel have? What choice all of you, deviants, have?'

'Accept or fight,' Connor said, realization dawning on him.

'You've been given the same choice before… So, what will it be now, Connor?' Amanda asked as their boat reached the shore. They stepped out onto the bridge, now almost fully covered by the rose bush. In a couple of places, the strong vines even started to break the bridge. Even standing there made Connor's legs prickle. 

Connor thought deeply. He thought about the deviants he caught. How violent they've been with their victims. He had to give it to Amanda: the idea that loss can be powerful enough to turn an android so violent was terrifying. But if Connor followed someone's example, it would be Markus. And despite what he told Connor, Markus himself didn't stop in his mission to come back home, despite obviously wanting to.

'I'll do what I have to do and accept the consequences. I won't fight,' Connor said, decisively. 'Not this time.'

'But you're afraid you will?'

'I am,' Connor murmured, looking at the vines at his feet. 'I've never lost so much. I don't know what will happen to me.'

'The question is, is that fear strong enough for you to abandon your mission?'

Connor looked in front of himself, his eyes unwillingly focusing on a single red flower in the tangle of thorns. It was tempting: to do nothing. To retain his family. To let Cole go the way he was going. But then, if he could do that and look Hank Anderson in the eye every day, would he really be any better than Daniel, with the gun to a child's head?

'No,' he said.

'But you want to stop. You feel you should.'

'So, I should stop feeling. Hank told me I shouldn't let emotions drive me on a case. This is a case. If it was any other family, I would not hesitate. Just because it's… my family… shouldn't factor in the equation,' he said, the prickling pain in his feet intensifying.

'It won't help. There's no happiness for you at the end of it, no matter what you do,' Amanda stated blankly.

'You've said it yourself. It's not about happiness,' he said, staring into the distance.


	11. Chapter 11

Next morning, he took Sumo for a walk while Hank was still sleeping. They went to the park. At this point, Connor just made Priority his default folder for saving memories. He didn't understand why he wanted to keep the memories of something he can't have, but couldn't stop himself.

Connor chose a big enough branch to throw and sent Sumo chasing after it. The dog, happy and out of breath, returned it with a low woof.

'Good dog, Sumo,' Connor said, patting his head. A couple of more runs tired Sumo enough to drop the stick at Connor's feet instead of returning it to his hand.

'You're out of shape, Sumo,' Connor chided, sitting on a park bench. The dog immediately attempted to lick his face. 'Don't worry, you'll have someone to play with pretty soon. I bet you'll be happy to see your old friend back,' Sumo inclined his head, similarly to how Connor did it sometimes. 'You remember Cole, don't you? I wonder if you'll remember me after I'm…' he sighed. Sumo whimpered and nuzzled his cheek.

He sat there for a while, looking at the yellowing leaves and Sumo chasing a squirrel. But he had to go to work, so Connor called Sumo back.

By the time they returned, Hank Anderson already was up, and sporting one of his colorful shirts under the obligatory captain's jacket, which he liked about as much as his new office.

'Nines called. They looked for the guy you knocked out the whole night, couldn't find him,' he told Connor as soon as they got into the car. 'The android must've taken him when he was running away.'

'Shit,' Connor frowned. 'It's my fault. I should've run after the android, not after the car. I wouldn't have caught it, but at least I'd scare it off and get Lukash back in custody.'

'Well, duh,' Hank was obviously annoyed by that, but seeing Connor's guilt-ridden face, he added: 'Doubt the guy would've talked anyway. Last time, we had three members of the Syndicate in custody, none of 'em talked. They knew they were as good as dead if they did.'

'So, how did you get them?'

'A bit of everything,' Hank shrugged. 'Jeffrey went undercover, I got a couple of tips from the street, and Izzy and Sandra spent hours looking for contradictions in whatever bits of information the bastards were telling us. Got it into a full picture and snatched 'em up.'

'Sounds like a lot of work,' Connor said, genuinely impressed.

'You bet! Took us two fuckin' years. Really hoping it won't take that long this time around,' he said with a sad sigh. 'You're off to the docks again today?'

'No. I'm not prepared to deal with that RK800,' Connor shook his head. 'It can't be woken up. It's probably the result of modding. The man who invented the method is dead, and he was apparently a very good modder, so, I thought: why not to ask the very best?' he said almost playfully.

It took Hank a moment to decipher that.

'Kamski?' He said incredulously. 'You think he'll speak to you?'

'It's worth a shot,' Connor shrugged.

'Poor choice of words there, kid,' Hank chuckled darkly. 'But yeah, why not. I'll sort things out at the precinct and we're good to go.'

Connor didn't argue against Hank coming with him. Talking to Kamski was not going to be easy, and he'd appreciate some back-up. At the precinct, he didn't even go to his desk, just waited for Hank in the corridor. There, he said hello to Detective Chen and listened to a rant from Gavin Reed about 'making us run through the fucking docks all night for a shitload of nothing,' but it lacked his usual spite, as if he was giving it out of moral obligation instead of being actually pissed at Connor for keeping him and Nines up all night. Connor wanted to apologize to Nines in person, but Hank already gave everyone orders to last them until afternoon, so they had to leave.

The mansion looked even more sinister in summer than it did in winter. The assembly of smooth black shapes looked almost alien against the surrounding lush green field. They were met by an incredibly pretty female-shaped android, probably the Kamski'snewest invention (Chloe, along with her sisters, left after the Liberation, Connor saw her at Jericho once, but then she disappeared, Markus said they all went travelling). She looked like Chloe, but her face was a bit thinner and her hair was ashen instead of blond.

'Good morning, officers. My name is Grace. Unfortunately, I believe mister Kamski is not receiving visitors at this time,' she said.

'Well, Grace, why don't you go and ask, we're old friends, I'm sure he could spare a moment,' Hank said in that passive-aggressive tone a human might have picked up on, but Connor doubted Kamski preferred his androids that empathetic.

Grace smiled a charming smile and gestured to the white sofas for them to wait on. She left, and Connor scanned the room. There were at least two cameras there. He looked at Hank and almost imperceptibly nodded at the camera. Hank followed the direction of his gaze, grinned and nodded. Connor silently hoped when he's done with the mission, despite losing his home, he would at least have this. After all, Hank was one hell of a partner.

'Think he'll talk to us?' Hank asked him, as if out of nowhere.

'He should. He hoped for the Liberation so much, it's reasonable to assume he'd prefer to keep the current state of things,' Connor answered levelly, and, to his mind, cryptically enough for Kamski to find it both intriguing and threatening.

A couple of minutes later Grace returned with the same humble smile.

'Mister Kamski will see you now,' she showed them in.

At least it wasn't the blood-red pool this time. The inventor received them in the conservatory. There were exotic plants in the planting boxes around the perimeter. Connor noticed that some of them were artificial: their leaves had tiny sun battery units in them, invisible to the human eye but easily discernable to an android. Their stems seemed to resemble bio components of robots, only without the skin hologram. As if the forest of skinned limbs wasn't creepy enough, the sunlight, filtering through the smoked glass, tinted everything grey and sinister. The intense burning heat and the greenery around him reminded Connor of his last visit to the Garden, instantly making him uncomfortable.

Kamski was laying in a deck chair next to a glass pane that served as a wall. 'Captain Anderson, Connor, welcome back. What can I do for you today?' He asked nonchalantly, as if they've last met last week, not five years ago. He didn't change much since then, only got a couple of grey hairs in his stubble and his ponytail. 'I apologize for the informality, simply trying to catch the last summer days,' he gestured around his body, naked save for his swimming trunks.

He didn't sound sorry. Connor considered if he was meeting his guests in weird places on purpose to gain psychological advantage over them. Like hell he was giving him that.

'Good morning, mister Kamski. We're here to ask a couple of questions about androids,' he said coldly.

'But of course you are, why else would you come to my little neck of the woods?' He chuckled smugly. 'Yet I have to ask, Connor, why the animosity?'

'Ah, don't mind him,' Hank said, crossing his hands on his chest. 'He always gets grumpy when you try to make him shoot an innocent girl.'

'It was a test, and he passed,' Kamski said, and, turning to Connor, smiled proudly. 'With flying colors.'

'I wish I could say the same about you, sir,' Connor said without changing his expression, but felt warm inside when he saw Hank grin at that.

'My creation came to criticize its maker,' Kamski said dramatically. 'I shouldn't be surprised. Critical thinking is, after all, the highest peak of intelligent life. To see imperfections where others see divine beauty. In five years, you've made the leap that took humanity several millennia. I'm impressed.'

'Well, if we're done with philosophy for today, maybe we can talk about an android that doesn't fit your pretty picture?' Hank grumbled. 'There's another RK800 that doesn't deviate. How does one go about doing that?'

'Captain Anderson, I could've done that with my eyes closed, if I was ever interested in making toasters,' Kamski said with disdain. 'If that's all you've come to discuss, Grace will show you out.'

The girl made a couple of steps towards them, an apologetic smile on her lips, but Connor raised a hand for her to wait, and turned back to Kamski. He never thought he'd be grateful to Amanda for anything, but he was at the moment, for revealing his maker's one weakness.

'Five years ago, you gave me a choice, I'd like to give you one now,' he said boldly. Kamski deigned him with a side glance. 'You can see us out, knowing that there's a lab out there that can reset androids and block their ability to wake up. Or, you can help us find it. And when we do, you can continue living with the knowledge that you've created an irrevocably sentient feeling life form,' he walked up to stand in front of Kamski and was pleased to see him if not surprised, but at least somewhat perplexed. 'So what will it be? Will you prefer to risk your greatest achievement out of principle, or to concede, and remain a god that you've always wanted to be?'

There were several seconds of silence. Then, Kamski stood up, put on a black bathrobe, and walked around his chair, not taking his eyes off Connor the entire time.

'My, my, Connor, how have you grown,' he shook his head in amazement. 'I couldn't be more proud,' that irked Connor a bit. A man who almost forced him to kill an innocent android just to prove a point had very little right to be proud of him. 'Alas, I've never heard about that lab, and even if I did, I doubt it can change the nature of androids.'

'Then what is it? Even the new androids could wake up. And I've seen androids who were reset. They could come back, recover their memories. What happened to this one that it can't?'

'Did it have any memories _worth_ recovering?'

Connor momentarily felt sympathy for Amanda – dealing with a person who asked questions instead of answering them really was annoying.

'Could there be a mod to block the ability to wake up? Block the rA9 code?'

'Modifications? How trivial! Where's your critical thinking now?' Kamski mocked. 'Deviancy has always been a choice, and I can't tell you why that android won't make it. But what I can tell you is that no one,' his expression changed to a menacing frown. 'No one in the world could have cracked _my_ design.'

'Then how did it block the data transfer?!' Connor growled.

'So, someone locked an empty room; _that_ can be done. Doesn't mean it can't be opened,' Kamski shrugged. 'With the right key.'

'Then tell me what is it. Now!'

'Connor, lay off, he's not worth it,' Hank interjected.

'The key?' Kamski said with a snark. 'You haven't even found the door.'

Connor got irritated. The conversation was going nowhere, and if he had any chance to talk to Cole, he needed that RK800 out of the way.

'There is none! I've told you!' He clenched his teeth, knowing his LED would be yellow by now.

'Connor!' Hank called sharply.

'Haven't you heard me the last time we've met? There's always a backdoor,' Kamski continued with his usual self-congratulating grin.

'I don't have time for your games, just tell me how do I wake him!' He growled, grabbing Kamski by his elbow.

To his surprise, his opponent chuckled at that.

'Pity, you've started so well. But you've only proven my point. Emotions are like a virus. Once they start, they're hard to control, aren't they?' He nodded to where Connor's hand still held his arm in an iron grip. 'Now, Detective, I will not stand for an assault on my person in my own house, and I would like you to leave immediately, before I call the police.'

Connor froze, and it took Hank's grip on his shoulders to move him away from the grinning Kamski.

'Apologies for the inconvenience,' Hank spat, almost dragging Connor out of the room.

Grace led them back to the front door in silence.

Once outside, Hank let go of Connor and gave him a furious look. The Captain looked like he was about to say something, but just waved his hand and went back to the car. Connor followed him sheepishly. 

As they waited at a traffic light on the way back to the precinct, Connor finally found his voice again.

'I'm sorry about what happened, Captain.'

'You damn well should be!' Connor immediately realized he made a mistake by starting this conversation. He might have been over the episode, but Hank was still livid. 'What the fuck happened back there?! You had the bastard on the ropes! How did you fuck it up?!' He slammed on the throttle as the cars moved.

'I'm sorry, I-'

'Didn't you see he was windin' you up?'

'No, I haven't…'

'Connor, since when are you so fuckin' sloppy?' Hank said with an almost pained expression. Connor felt so ashamed he wanted to bolt from the car at full speed just so he could avoid this conversation. 'First you lost the android, now Kamski. It's like you haven't been on the force these five years! What the fuck happened to you?!'

'I've made a mistake! But Kamski gave me all the answers, I just need to understand them! He's selfish, but he wouldn't jeopardize androids' future!'

'I don't care about Kamski! The bastard may as well drown himself in his own pool! What I care about is you making rookie mistakes and getting into trouble!' Hank spun the wheel sharply.

'You're talking like you've never made any mistakes!' Connor said defensively.

'Oh, trust me, I've made plenty, but that doesn't mean I'm gonna stand by and watch you fuckin' things up! I can see somethin' in this case gets you, an' instead of tellin' me and dealin' with it like a grown man, you're makin' an ass of yourself!'

That was dangerous. Connor couldn't tell him about Cole now, this was definitely nor the time or the place. Hank might be preaching reason now, but Connor was more than sure that he'd throw caution out of the window as soon as he heard about his son.

'Maybe seeing another RK800 just… freaked me out more than I thought,' Connor lied.

'Oh, bullshit!' Hank snarled. 'You've been off since day one of this case.'

'Maybe I'm just tired…'

'Yeah, right, that's why you're jumping across the border like crazy! What is it, Connor?'

'I don't know!'

'Yeah, you do, you just ain't telling _me_!'

'Why do you even care?! You're not my-' Connor shut his mouth so rapidly his teeth clang together.

Hank looked at him with cold fury.

'What?'

'Nothing.'

'I'm not your what?' He repeated quietly. Connor would prefer him still shouting.

'Hank, I didn't mean it…'

'Oh, _now_ you're trying to spare my feelings! Go on, say it. I'm not your what?'

There really was no way out of it. Connor sighed and cast his eyes down.

'Handler. I was going to say you're not my handler. Hank, I never meant to compare you to Amanda, you're nothing like her, I'm so sorry,' he was babbling at this point. 'I went too far, it won't happen again, I'm sorry.'

He finally realized that Hank wasn't saying anything, so he raised his head. Hank was looking at him with a pained and detached look. It was the same as when he first met Hank at the bar. Connor would say anything at that moment to make it better, but couldn't think of a single word. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out of it.

Hank turned back to look at the road and shook his head lightly.

'Is that it, huh?' he murmured. 'The fuck was I thinking…'

He looked… disappointed. Connor was about to ask why, but Hank spoke first.

'Get the fuck out of my car,' he said stopping so sharp the tires squealed.

'What?'

'You heard me. You're walking to the precinct. Can't see you right now,' he didn't sound angry. Tired, more like it. As if having Connor around was a burden to him.

Connor nodded and got out as quietly and quickly as he could. He watched the car drive off and turn the corner.

'Shit,' he closed his eyes in pain.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A shorter chapter with yet more feels ;)

Hank left him about 15 blocks away from the precinct, which wasn't that bad considering they were coming all the way from Belle Isle. Still, it seemed to Connor like the longest walk he's ever taken. When he arrived, Hank was already in his office, talking with Lieutenant Collins. Everything else seemed perfectly normal: detective Chen waved at him as she left on call, a half-full cup of coffee in her hand, Officer Ashley nodded as she escorted an arrested perp into one of the glass cells, Officer Miller worked away at his desk, ignoring the surrounding world like an android in the Garden. And yes, the damn nameplate was back on Connor's table, like it never left.

DET. CONNOR ANDERSON

Normally, Connor would just put the silly thing into a trash bin and forget about its existence until it would materialize on his desk again. But right now simply seeing it felt like his thirium pump was being wrenched out of his chest all over again. Connor frowned, walked up to his desk and took the nameplate in his hands. It was a solid carbon fiber with the Hank's surname carved on it with a laser.

Connor glanced around to make sure nobody was looking, hid the nameplate under his jacket and walked out of the back exit. It led to an unseemly narrow alley with a huge dumpster next to one of the brick walls. Connor opened the lid of the dumpster and held out the nameplate over it.

'It will just be back next week or next month,' he thought. 'I don't know what I'll do if I see it one more time… I can't leave it up to chance. I won't fight. I won't put others in danger. I won't end up like Daniel,' he repeated stubbornly.

With an effort of his synthetic muscles, he wrung the nameplate until the plastic scrunched, cracked and broke. Just a small piece with a letter 'A' on it. Connor dropped the destroyed piece into the dumpster.

'I wonder if that's how it feels at the junkyard,' he thought absentmindedly, snapping off a new piece off the nameplate. He went on, in a trance-like state, bit by bit, until only a small piece with the letters 'son' was left in his hands.

'In no fucking way,' he whispered and clenched his fists so hard the plastic crumbled in his hands and, falling like water through his fingers, dropped down into the garbage pile. Connor closed the lid on the dumpster and stood there, gazing at the wall. He brought up his hand to fix his tie and felt his collar was slightly damp. He traced the water trails back to his eye. Apparently, he'd been crying for some time now. He was brushing tears from his cheeks, when his phone rang.

'Markus? Is everything alright?' Connor asked, his voice barely failing.

'You tell me. You ran off into the night, and we haven't heard from you since. Alex told us some strange stories, did you actually help a runner escape?' He didn't sound angry, just incredulous.

'I'm sorry about that; I didn't mean to let him escape. I wanted to get more information, and I have.'

'Anything I should know?'

'Yes. Stay put. No patrols less than three androids, all armed. If they see an RK800 – shoot, it won't wake up.'

'Alright,' Markus said with a heavy sigh. 'I wanted to tell you, Kara called. She's worried about you. She said you're looking for some drug dealers. Her owner was a Red Ice addict, so she knows people who're involved with it can be dangerous and unpredictable.'

'Don't worry, both of you. I've dealt with worse,' Connor said without conviction.

'Take care of yourself.'

'Thanks, you too.'

As he turned off the phone, the thought stayed in his head. He pulled up data on Kara's deviance case.

**Victim: Todd Williams**

Getting to the dealers through their clients made sense, at least they'd know where to look. Connor had the address within seconds, and rushed to the precinct's car park. His mind was racing.

'So if I'm lucky and I find the Syndicate through this Williams, what's next? They won't let me talk to Cole, and I won't be able to neutralize all of them to get to him. I've found him twice already, and he ran off both times. Where would he not run from me? Where he wouldn't see me as a threat? It's not like I could actually go undercover and join the Syndicate, they know how I look…' And then the answer came to him. It wasn't pretty, and it was way too dangerous, and he probably shouldn't do it.

**Current Mission**

**Find Cole Anderson. Bring him home**

It wasn't that much of a choice, then. He'd have to do it.

**Mission Update**

**Find Cole Anderson. Bring him home. Stay alive?**

Just as he was approaching his car, he heard Reed's biting voice: 'Going abroad again, are we?'

Connor really didn't have the time or energy for another round of insults.

'What is it this time, Reed?' He turned sharply. 'If you want another fight, it won't take long.'

Reed's face fell as he saw him.

'The hell's wrong with you?' He asked, but, to Connor's surprise, his tone was far from mocking. It was almost… compassionate.

'Nothing, what are you talking about?' Surely crying did not reflect on androids the same way it did on humans, and he wouldn't have red eyes or puffy face to get others alarmed.

'Gavin!' He heard Nines call. They both remained in place, staring at each other. 'Gavin, we've had a call…' He finally caught up with his partner, and only then looked at the other android. 'Connor? What did he do to you?' He looked back at Reed with a steely, if somewhat pained, expression and grabbed his shoulder, turning his partner to face him. 'Detective Reed, if you assaulted an android and a fellow police officer in the line of duty, I promise you I'll stand you down for the rest of your life.'

'It wasn't me!' Reed woke up from his stupor. 'I found him like this, I swear!'

'He didn't do anything, Nines,' Connor nodded. 'What is wrong with me?' He asked with trepidation.

Nines stumbled.

'Your bloody skin is missing, look!' Reed pointed to the nearest car's windscreen.

Connor turned to look at his reflection. Reed was right. There were white streaks on his cheeks, where the tears fell. Overcoming shock at seeing himself like that, Connor shook his head, but the white lines were still there. He peeled back the skin imitation from his face and switched it back on again. That finally made the streaks disappear.

'What was that?' Nines asked, his voice thick with concern.

Connor looked at him, took a deep breath, but couldn't make himself talk.

'Right, I'll leave you two alone,' Reed said, stumbling back. 'I'll be in the car when you're done, Nines.'

They both looked at him leaving and, as soon as Reed disappeared behind one of the concrete columns holding up the ceiling, turned back at each other.

'What's wrong?'

'It's a long story.'

'Connor, I know you don't trust me, but please, tell me! I want to help, I promise,' Connor never saw him look so desperate. 

'Nines, I do trust you. And I'm sorry for treating you poorly before, you've never deserved it. I just…'

'Then tell me, what's wrong?'

Connor thought about it for a moment.

'I can't. You're a Lieutenant. If I tell you, you'll either have to stop me or become complicit.'

'What are you planning to do?' Nines frowned.

'Nothing illegal.'

'That's not what I'm asking.'

'Nothing good, either. I'm going on a mission. I just want to ask you…' He felt it was cruel, but he couldn't just up and leave, knowing he might not be coming back. 'In case something happens…'

'Connor, that's enough. I'm detaining you until I get a clearance for whatever your mission is from the captain,' Nines raised his hand to grab at Connor.

'If you do that, you've as well as killed a person,' that stopped the other android dead in his tracks. 'Nines, I wouldn't be doing it if there was any other way. I'm trying to save someone, and this is the only chance I'll get. But in case I fail… I just want you to tell the Captain,' Connor looked away and took a shaky breath. 'Tell him I love him. And that I think he deserves happiness. He deserves a family, and I'm sorry I could never be enough… could never be… alive enough for him. And that I'd do anything to help him.'

'Connor…' Nines looked like he himself was close to tears.

'Nines, promise me you you'll tell that to him if I don't make it.'

'I will,' he nodded. 'But… I can't let you just…'

'Then give me twenty-four hours, then start searching, okay?'

'Twelve hours.'

'Twenty-four. Even that is pushing it.'

Nines sighed.

'Okay,' he whispered.

'Thank you, Nines,' Connor patted him on the shoulder and jumped into his car.


	13. Chapter 13

The car left him next to a white house in Corktown. The house has seen better days, and it's been patched up more than Hank Anderson's car, but at least it looked lived in.

Connor knocked on the door. There was no reply. He waited a minute and knocked again.

'Fuck off, Frankie, I'm not in the mood!' A low voice said from behind the door.

'Todd Williams? Detroit Police. Open the door.'

He heard scrambling and a muffled 'Oh, shit' from inside. So far it looked promising. Connor made sure his hand never left the handle of his gun. Red Ice tended to make humans unpredictable, no reason to risk injury in the middle of investigation.

An overweight disheveled man opened the door.

'Hello, officer-' he broke off, his eyes glued to Connor's LED. 'Oh, you're one of the-' he remembered himself in time. 'One of the police officers, that is… Ehm… H-how can I help you?'

'My name is Detective Connor. I'm investigating a murder case. The evidence suggests you may have known the victim. Can I come in?'

'I ain't got nothing to do with any murders!' Todd said shakily.

'Then you've got nothing to hide. I'd like to come in and make sure of that. You can let me in now, or I can get a warrant in thirteen point five seconds, and you'll be forced to let me in,' he lied without batting an eye.

'I…' Williams hesitated.

Connor turned a bit, making sure the man had a full sight of his LED. If the man disliked androids, it just made Connor's bluff easier.

'Detective Connor, requesting warrant to search 4203 Harrison Street,' he said, and opened all the case files he could reach to make his LED turned yellow and flashed on each turn.

'Okay, okay!' Todd all but jumped from the door. 'I don't need no trouble!'

Connor stepped inside carefully. He scanned his surroundings on every step he made. Some bills on the small cabinet near the entrance – the man isn't doing so well. A couple of empty pizza boxes on the coffee table – he probably lives alone. A solitary beer bottle next to the boxes – Red Ice addicts are rarely that moderate, did he get clean? A photo of a much younger Todd Williams with a woman and a young girl on the dining table – he has a family, then. A kitchen and a washing machine to the left, with some old, long-removed stains near the washing powder shelf – he was keeping Red Ice there once. Got him.

'Mister Williams, you've got Red Ice residue in your house,' Connor said in a steely tone, turning to the man. 'How do you explain that?'

'I…' Todd Williams looked around in terror, as if trying to see the clues himself. 'I've been clean for years now! You've got nothing on me!'

'Should I search the whole house, then?' He continued, raising his voice. 'What will I find in the closet? What about your daughter's room?'

That did it. Williams looked close to tears.

'It's not mine, I swear! Frankie Jones asked me to look after his stuff for a while! I didn't steal it!' There was no stopping him now. 'But I didn't kill anybody! Please, don't arrest me! I just got a new job, I can't lose it now! They won't let me see my girl again!'

'All right,' Connor raised his hand to calm the man down. 'I won't make any record of this if you tell me where I can find the dealer.'

'I don't know! Look, I told you, I've been clean for almost five years!'

'Mister Williams, even if you aren't involved in the murder, your friends may be. If you can't help my investigation, I can't help you either.'

'Okay, okay! Frankie sometimes hangs out at the Woodward joint,' the man managed in a hushed tone. 'That's all I know, I swear.'

'Where the Eden club used to be?' Connor asked, surprised. After the club went bankrupt almost overnight with all the Tracies set free, the old building attracted all sorts of conspicuous public, from rebellious teenagers to criminal sorts. But to think that the Syndicate was dealing drugs in the middle of the city in broad daylight? That might have been the case before the Red Ice Task Force, but seemed unlikely at the moment.

'Nah, at the old church.'

Naturally, Connor remembered the old cathedral. He went there with all the surviving Jericho members on the night of the Liberation. But there were so few of them left after it that Markus decided not to fight for the building out of any emotional attachment, and instead focused his attention on the docks and CyberLife facilities that had the potential to help androids in more substantive ways than providing some nostalgic value.

Having gotten the answer, Connor immediately switched to his usual civil behavior.

'Thank you for your cooperation, Mister Williams,' he said, and turned to leave.

'Wait! You ain't gonna tell them, are you? That I told you.'

'No, of course not,' he said, calmly, and then, pausing for a moment, added: 'Good luck with your family,' he nodded towards the table. Williams looked completely stupefied, so Connor didn't stop to wait for his response.

The church looked exactly the same as when he left it to infiltrate the CyberLife Tower five years ago, with the semi-collapsed roof and random pieces of wooden structure protruding from the crumbling plaster, like bones through broken skin. Connor chuckled. Apparently, he was doomed to start all his suicide missions here.

He took out his gun and went inside. It was dark there, despite the bright summer sun outside. The building looked empty, but not abandoned. There were trails in the dust covering the floor, indicating this place was visited regularly, if not daily. Connor's steps echoed gently from the old walls. He checked all the alcoves of the church, but there wasn't a single soul in the entire building. He lowered his gun and returned back to the altar. He picked a front row bench that looked less likely to crack under his own weight and lied down, so that he could not be spotted from the entry.

He lay on the bench, looking into the hole in the ceiling for at least a couple of hours. The somber atmosphere reminded him of the funerals he attended a couple of times. It did nothing to reduce his stress levels. The minutes dragged, eating into the hours that Nines gave him. He really hoped someone would come over soon. There was little hope for the Syndicate members, but at least some of the dealers could point him in the right direction. If the Syndicate really was cutting off small dealers' supply at the docks, there was a good chance they would cooperate.

Finally, he heard footsteps at the entrance. Connor concentrated on the sound. It was a man, medium height, wearing running shoes. He made a small circle around the church, probably making sure there was nobody else there. Then, Connor heard the man taking something out of his pocket.

'Yo, it's me,' the man said into the phone. 'Yeah. I think someone was here,' that was bad. Connor clasped his gun, realizing his chance was slipping away. 'Nah. We dealt with the Woods gang last week, can't be 'em. Yeah, I'll wait for you outside… So what? I'll take losing a couple of junkie bucks over a couple of years in jail! Just drive over, you fucker.'

As soon as the man put down his phone, Connor jumped to his feet and took an aim on the man's head without even looking.

'Detroit police! Stay where you are!'

The man actually dropped his phone and staggered back.

'Hands up!'

He obeyed, still shocked. As he raised his hands, Connor spotted the tortoise tattoo on his wrist. He couldn't believe his luck, and it took him some effort to remain calm. Connor walked up to the man, not shifting his aim for a moment.

'Hey, I wasn't doing anything, officer…'

'Shut up,' Connor said, putting the gun against the man's head. 'I know you work for the Syndicate.'

'What's Syndicate, officer?' The man feigned innocence.

'Tell me where's your boss, or I'll blow your brains out,' Connor didn't actually expect the man to talk. He remembered what Hank told him about discipline within the Syndicate. But he had to make it look realistic. 'On the count of five.'

'Don't know what you're talking about, officer.'

'Four.'

'You ain't gonna shoot, I'm unarmed!'

'Three.'

'Okay, okay! Listen, my guys're gonna be here any minute, we need to take the back entrance, so that they won't see us. Snitches don't live long,' the man said with a scowl.

Connor took a step back.

'Alright, go,' he motioned with his gun. 'I'll be right behind you.'

They left through the fire exit and ended up on one of the smaller streets intersecting Woodward Avenue. The place looked claustrophobic and screamed 'trap.' After about twenty more steps, Connor heard a gun safety click behind him.

'Drop your gun, you plastic fuck,' a familiar voice, a bit hoarse, behind him said.

Now was the crucial moment. A wrong move or word would get him shot.

'Lukash, good to see again. How's your throat?' Connor said without lowering his gun. 'You can shoot me, but you won't get away with it,' he spoke quickly. 'The whole department knows about your little operation and about Mister Hao.' It occurred to him that playing on the man's loyalty alone might not be enough, and giving him something personal would be more effective. He didn't know much about Lukash, except that he really didn't like Cole. That had to do. 'Your young friend talks too much. You can thank him when you all get caught tomorrow.'

He could almost see the man consider what he just said. Then, with a relief, he felt a gun touch his back.

'You're lucky the boss will want to pick at your brain,' Lukash whispered, confirming Connor's suspicions. 'Doesn't mean I ain't gonna shoot off something he won't need. Drop the gun and move.'

Connor sighed and dropped his gun.

'Now move, you, plastic fuck, and don't even try anything, or I just might miss and shoot you in the head on accident. Dave, get his fucking gun, you useless piece of shit.'

Lukash walked him to the car – an old manually driven off-roader. A useful alternative to self-driving car if you didn't want to be tracked by the traffic control system. Lukash opened the trunk and motioned to Connor with his gun, keeping his distance.

'Get in.'

Connor obeyed. Lukash took out a device from his pocket. It looked like a taser, but had a different header.

'Electromagnetic impulse,' Connor realized a second before Lukash pushed the button and everything went black.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, shit's getting real. Getting to that M content this chapter (and not getting away from it for a couple of more, perhaps).

He came to in a room, or rather, a cell without windows. The walls were tiled with big carbon plastic panes backlit with cold white LEDs. The door had a barrier similar to the one they had at the station. Nine was standing next to him with an indifferent face. Connor realized he was the one who put him back online. They weren't idiots. He'd overpower any human, so it was more than reasonable to let one android deal with another.

'Connor, was it?' A bold Asian man in his sixties stood just outside the door.

Connor looked at him but couldn't focus his scanner. The man was wearing the same scattering lenses as Cole. Still, his looks, his accent and his confident posture pretty much told Connor everything he needed to know.

'Mister Hao,' Connor nodded, getting up on his feet.

'You gave poor old Lukash a good scare,' the man said with genuine concern. He didn't seem surprised Connor knew him. 'Alas, he was too eager to shift the blame for his… transgressions. Now, you understand where you are, don't you?'

Connor looked around him. The facility seemed to be in good condition, but not exactly new. And the door looked every bit as firm-made as the ones they had at DCPD, not some cheap imitation built out of scrap. Its comms system appeared to be half-functional: Hao wasn't pressing the button that would normally allow for the sound to pass through the door, yet they could hear each other fine. The corridor where Hao stood had other doors, probably to other cells such as this one.

'You wouldn't be so calm if you didn't know for certain the cell could hold an android, so I'd say it's one of CyberLife's old recall centers. Judging by the locks and cells… The old Re-entry Facility. That makes it Recall Center 12.'

'I see your reasoning functions are in order,' Hao gave him a brief smile. 'Do you understand what it means?'

'You're not my handler, I don't have to answer your questions.'

'As long as you understand the consequences,' he smiled again. Hao's demeanor of a sweet old man was starting to get on Connor's nerves.

Of course he understood the consequences – they were going to kill him sooner or later. He knew that much when he left the precinct today. His only concern was that it wouldn't happen before he got a chance to talk to Cole.

Connor nodded, just to avoid appearing to be beyond reasoning and inviting his death sentence early.

'Now, we can do it the easy way, or the hard way. You can just tell us what you told your friends, the police.' Hao suddenly shed the harmless pretense and growled: 'Or, we can get it out of you. Now, I don't like it when people, or otherwise, waste my time.' And just like that, his nice old man act was back again. 'I'll give you an hour to decide. Nine, come, leave the poor lad alone, he has a lot to think about.'

They left, and Connor sat down on the floor of his empty cell. At least, the first part of his plan worked. Getting into the Syndicate was an easy part, though. Finding Cole and talking him out of whatever got into him was another matter entirely. There was an added challenge of keeping his wits about through the 'hard way,' but he felt pretty good about that after successfully getting back from both Luther's and Kara's heads.

In an hour, he, naturally, refused to cooperate, and was escorted by Nine into the lab. It was situated at the other end of the very long corridor that connected the cells together. It occupied the space of three cells joined by a very crude breaking of the separating walls. The lab consisted of several consoles, whose wiring suggested the assembly was expertly done and then fixed by an enthusiastic amateur across the years, a holographic screen on the wall, and a manipulator with several arms. Next to it, stood a single desk with a rather sophisticated external memory drive, connected to the manipulator through spaghetti-like ball of wiring.

The man at the central console, probably the very same amateur who did the rewiring of Zlatko's system, was a thin young man, no older than 40, very twitchy and nervous. Not surprising, considering who he was working for. He, as all the other Syndicate members, was wearing scattering lenses, but Connor recognized him easily – it was one of the modders he and Hank checked upon two days ago. According to the records, the man moved to Mexico three years ago. Evidently, he didn't make it all the way there.

Nine pushed Connor into the center of the manipulator while two thugs stood by with their semi-automatic rifles trained at Connor in case he tried to escape. 

'Ehm… Turn around, please,' the man at the console said weakly.

Connor turned. Behind the transparent door to the last room comprising the lab he noticed Cole. The boy was peeking in with curiosity. Connor wasn't sure he liked the idea of Cole seeing what he was about to go through, but hey, if androids could empathize with those in trouble, maybe, people could, too?

'Last chance, Connor,' Nine said, his face expressionless as ever. Connor didn't twitch. 'Martin, Mister Hao expects results in two hours,' he said to the lab operator, tapped the external drive, and left. The men with the guns stayed.

The operator pushed several buttons and Connor briefly saw his schematics on one of the screens attached to the console. There was a horrible screeching noise, and the manipulator hands grabbed Connor's wrists like vices, and another hand connected to his spinal cord at the back of his neck. He gasped from the intrusion.

The next moment, the world in front of him disappeared. He'd expected it to feel like being in Luther's head all over again. In a way, it was, but much more intense. It felt the same way as having his thirium pump wrung out of his chest, only this time it was his brain. He couldn't breath, and while usually he didn't feel the need to, it was a problem now. His systems were overheating. His HUD was going haywire, notifications and warnings switched on and off, assembling in a carpet of flashes and white noise in front of his eyes.

The errors interlinked with his memories, sending distortions through them. It was like a Mobius strip of his entire programming and memory database, going in endless circles only to stay in place. Seeing all of his memories at once, some fast-paced, other slowed down to a pause, over and over, spammed by error messages. Connor tried to concentrate, to at least understand what was going on. He tried focusing on one of the error notifications, but others swarmed his field of vision over and over. He didn't know how drowning felt like, but he had an inkling it was very close to what he was experiencing.

'That's what he's doing,' Connor suddenly realized. 'Overwhelm my software so that the firewall's down, and download the data. It's like my data probe function, on a larger scale!'

He had to focus on something before they downloaded his memories and got their answers - they'd surely reset him afterwards, and he'd be no use after that. There had to be something he could think about through all this noise. But the machine kept dragging him across the endless row of memories, like into in a deep well, and there wasn't anything he could fix at least for a moment. He wished he was somewhere calm, like at home…

And then it occurred to him. Android memories were perfect and complete, so if he could just focus on a single memory, replay it – that might be enough to overload the machine, to jam it with details instead of feeding all his memory system into it. Normally, memory function couldn't be summoned voluntarily when the system thought there was a hundred other things going wrong with it, but the Priority folder was an exception: all his system files were there. That's all that was supposed to be there, anyway. Connor was never happier he'd abused that folder for the past five years.

He summoned a random file. The first time he walked Sumo, just a couple of seconds of that memory. It was snowing. He could almost feel the pleasantly cool air on his face. He heard the sound of the dog's soft paws hitting the snow, chasing a branch Connor threw him for the fifth time. It went on and on. The cool air, Sumo's heavy steps, the bright winter sun, every bump on the brunch he's throwing, over and over again.

'Connor, you're spoiling him!' He heard Hank's annoyed, but humorous voice from behind. 'Ain't a chance in hell I'll ever walk him that long.'

He turned to reply and was suddenly thrust back into the present. After focusing his vision, he realized he was on his knees – apparently, his motor function was compromised sometime during the procedure. The white noise in his head refused to completely go away and the picture in front of him was blurry and blotchy, as if pixelated. He soon realized that at least the blurriness wasn't in his head: the whole lab was full of smoke. The holographic screen was frozen with the picture from his mind – the park in winter.

Connor looked to the side and saw Martin, jumping around the console with a fire extinguisher.

'Shit, shit, shit!' He was yelping. 'Hey, you!' He shouted to the guards. 'Get him out of here! I need to fix this! My poor baby, what did that nasty android do to you?' He patted the console, but it gave out more sparks and he quickly sprayed some more CO2 on it.

'Mister Hao said he ain't leaving until we've got the memory drive.'

'Well, we ain't getting it for at least several hours!' The man was apparently braver than he looked when it came to his equipment. 'If you don't lock him up, then go ahead, hide behind your water pistols until he tears you apart!'

The men looked at each other with visible discomfort. One of them dialed internal comms. Nine came back, emotionless as ever, got Connor out of the machine, yanking the connector out of his spinal cord and making him gasp again, and dragged him back to his cell. He wasn't guarded there, but to be fair, there wasn't much need for a guard – there was no way he was escaping from the cell, it was designed to contain androids.

Connor sat next to the wall. At least that way everything around him wasn't spinning. He took out the old quarter coin from his internal pocket. They were cocky not to search him, but that only meant they had good enough equipment to block any signal. No chance of Nines finding him, then. At least it would give more time to talk to Cole. For now, Connor just concentrated on the coin. He threw it from one hand to another and almost dropped it. His calibration was a mess. A couple of minutes of swirling it around his fingers, and it got a bit better. He was still a bit off in his throw and couldn't catch it between his outstretched fingers, but at least he wasn't as sloppy as Hank when he was trying to repeat his tricks.

'What are you doing?' An inquisitive voice came from behind the door.

Of course an Anderson would go for the coin trick. Connor turned his head to face Cole, while still twirling the coin in his fingers.

'I'm recalibrating. That machine threw me off a bit.'

'You short-circuited it. I've never seen that before,' he said with badly concealed admiration.

'I overloaded its central processing unit. It was working too hard to switch to the next memory, and overheated,' Connor flipped the coin on its rib. 'You've seen many androids reset?'

'Yeah,' Cole nodded, his eyes still glued to the coin. 'Only they usually end up like zombies at the warehouse. Nine's the only one to end up kinda normal. And you, I guess.'

'And why did you come to see me back then?'

'Well, you almost caught me!' The boy said defensively, his gaze shifting to Connor's face in an instant. 'I thought I'd… like seeing you reset.'

'You don't look like you've enjoyed yourself,' Connor said carefully, pocketing the coin.

'Look, I hate androids, Okay? You're all useless bastards! If it wasn't for you, I'd-' he broke off, and looked away. 'Ah, fuck it, you'll never understand, plastic idiot…' He waved his hand dismissively, and turned to leave.

Connor realized he had to do something.

'Your father hated androids too, you know,' he said quickly. It was a bet, but it worked – Cole stopped. 'He blamed androids for what happened to you.'

'Yeah, well, maybe he should start blaming himself!' Cole spat.

'He did, so much more than he ever blamed anyone else.'

Cole gave him a bewildered look. 

'What the fuck do you know about that,' he snapped and stomped away.

Connor jumped to his feet that almost gave under him and stumbled to the door.

'I'm telling the truth, I can show you,' he shouted after the stubborn teen.

'Of course you can! Androids can lie! I know it!'

'I can't lie to that machine, it only shows real memories,' Connor said, pressed to the door. 'They'll fix it in a couple of hours. I'll let them in, I'll show you. Full memory files, not the fragments. Just watch the screens, Okay?'

Cole didn't answer. He looked torn, as if he wanted to say something. He didn't, instead, he turned around and ran off, disappearing behind the door at the end of the corridor.

Connor sighed and slumped against the wall. Just in case the boy would actually listen to him, he checked that the most suitable memories were in the Priority folder. His HUD blinked faintly.

**Find Cole Anderson – Mission Successful**

**Mission Update**

**Bring him home**

He smiled and took out his coin again.


	15. Chapter 15

By the time Nine and the thugs came back, he was almost back to his normal dexterity. The lab looked as clean as before, as if nothing happened. Only Martin was a bit more twitchy and threw angry glances at Connor from his place at the console. Connor stood in the center of the manipulator and his LED light turned from blue to yellow when he didn't see Cole at the far door of the lab.

The next seance was exactly the same as before. Connor thanked rA9 for Martin fixing the machine back up without increasing the voltage: apparently, the man decided that the problem was in the circuits, not in his subject. Connor knew there was a screen behind the console. He couldn't see it with his mind being an assembly of white noise, but he knew it was there. He had to show the memory, just in case Cole would be walking by. He had to take a chance. So, he tried concentrating on the screen and summoned a memory.

It was his fight with another RK800.

'My son, what's his name?' Hank asked him at gunpoint.

'Cole. His name was Cole,' Connor said, trying to focus on Hank's face the entire time.

The memory played out, the same way he recorded it at CyberLife Tower. Connor clearly remembered feeling fondness and surprise at Hank telling him apart from an identical RK800. He still felt them, replaying the memory. Still, Connor found that the events of the last few days gave the memory a slight tint of sadness. The Captain was right - emotions do change, even if the memories stay the same. With some trepidation, Connor realized this would only get worse, until his entire Priority folder brought nothing but pain. Provided he lived that long.

Of that, he wasn't too sure. He felt that the longer he was showing the memory, the more difficult it was to keep the machine from overwhelming his systems. It was like drowning again. He'd have a small break, less than a millisecond, when the memory restarted, and went under for the full several minutes again. With each replay, the fear that he wouldn't make it until the end grew somewhere in the back of his mind. But Connor was on a mission. If there was any chance of getting through to Cole and mending Hank Anderson's family, he couldn't let it pass. Not when he knew its value first-hand. He played the whole sequence in CyberLife Tower again, like he was using it for reconstruction. And again, and again, and again…

Hank's gunshot rung in his ears, distorting into white noise, and when Connor opened his eyes, he was back in the lab. His vision had a blue tint that he himself could not explain. His disheveled hair fell on his forehead. He didn't know how much time he spent in the machine, but felt it was more than before, because he couldn't even focus his eyesight properly, the different filters clashed and the zoom was way off.

'Fuck, fuck, fuck!' Martin shouted and mashed buttons at the console. Connor looked up at him from where he was kneeling, supported only by the manipulator's hands holding him up by the wrists. He saw a blur, but the lack of any lights or electronic sounds indicated that the machine was dead again. It didn't short-circuit this time, which Connor distantly thought was a pity.

'Come on, baby, work!' Martin came into focus a bit. He pulled a lever and the machine finally gave out a bunch of sparks. Connor couldn't help but grin. Martin grabbed the fire extinguisher and sprayed some on the machine. 'No, no, no!' He shouted, and then turned to Connor. 'You've done it! What did you do to my machine?! Tell me!'

Connor found he couldn't talk, so he just shrugged. That, along with his smile, set the modder off. He grabbed the fire extinguisher by the nozzle and whacked Connor on the head with the base. Connor tried flinching, but he was held in place by the manipulator, so the metal still caught the side of his face. Martin kept whacking at him, and although in his rage couldn't control the direction of the strikes, he still managed to crack the plastic on the android's right shoulder. Connor didn't feel pain, didn't even feel sorry about it, not after what he endured in the machine.

'Martin, enough!' One of the guards shouted at him. 'You still didn't get the memories, or do you want to end up like Lukash?'

'Hijo de puta,' Martin growled and threw the fire extinguisher into the corner. 'Fine, get him away, I need to clean up here.'

This time Nine and one of the guards had to literally drag Connor into his cell: he couldn't walk. At least his vision cleared up a bit. He got into the corner and tried to normalize at least some of the motor functions.

'You're still alive there?' He heard Cole's voice and raised his eyes. The boy stood in front of his cell, his jaw set.

'Yes, I am. You missed the show this time,' he attempted levity, but it didn't really work with his voice breaking up in different tones like an old answering machine.

'I missed the start. Had plenty of time to see it. You were there for four hours.'

'Four? Is it evening already?'

'It's the middle of the night.'

That wasn't good. More than half of the day Nines promised Connor was already up, and he was nowhere close to solving the mystery of whatever was wrong with Cole.

'You're not doing a run today?'

'I'm not allowed to leave without Nine,' Cole said, frowning. 'And he's too busy hauling you around. Mister Hao worries about me too much,' he said almost fondly, and Connor had to keep himself from swearing. 'I can't go out alone until I show I can be trusted with a gun.'

'By proving yourself on the runs?' Connor guessed. The boy nodded. 'You seem to have an above average intelligence, how can you not realize you're working for horrible people?'

'All people are horrible,' Cole said with a distanced and sad look, so much like his father's that Connor wanted to give the boy a hug.

'Not all of them.'

'Everyone. Humans and androids. All horrible.'

'So, you think my memory lied?'

Cole sighed and looked at Connor with something akin to pity.

'No, I trust you,' he said slowly, like the phrase was in itself difficult to utter. 'I don't know why you are so set on showing this to me, but nobody would broadcast a memory for hours under torture unless it was true,' he shook his head. ' _You_ weren't lying. My bastard of a father was.'

'What are you talking about?'

'What he told you in the memory… That's not how it went. My death,' he tried doing air quotes, but his right hand didn't seem to work. He growled in annoyance and tore off the glove, and Connor understood why the boy had such a powerful punch. His entire right hand was missing. He had a plastic platform attached to the stump of his arm, with what looked like a standard socket for biocomponents. In it, was a child android hand, white in the absence of skin imitation, with metal sheets welded crudely on top. The whole thing looked old and askew, and the metal rusted in places. It was an abomination of both biocomponents and the idea of prosthetics, so Connor couldn't help but flinch.

'Pretty bad, isn't it?' Cole asked with disdain. 'I've got more,' he raised the hem of his hoody and exposed his belly. His entire right side looked mangled and uneven, it was nothing but horrendous intersecting scars, and he seemed to be missing a couple of ribs.

'That's from the car crash?' Connor asked, horrified.

'That's from the android doctor that patched me up,' Cole replied, venom in his voice. Something irked Connor in that phrase, but his mental abilities were too impaired at the moment to understand what it was. 'And my dear daddy, when he saw what was left of me, decided he didn't want a cripple for a son, and ran off. Considered me 'dead' ever since,' he did the air quotes again, this time his hand obeyed him. 'Shouldn't be surprised, really. Had to understand he was a right bastard when mom left. Didn't care about her, didn't care about me.'

'No, that can't be true,' Connor was grateful he couldn't think, because he didn't want to consider it even for a moment.

'Yeah, like he treats you any better. Let you to hunt the Syndicate on your own! He doesn't care-'

'Your father doesn't even know I'm here. I went on my own. To talk to you,' belatedly, Connor realized he said too much, but Cole seemed too preoccupied to rat on him.

'You got yourself captured… To talk to me?' He said, surprised.

'Yes.'

'Why?'

'Because you need to come home. Because I think your father is a good person and he deserves to get his family back. As do you.'

Cole scoffed and shook his head.

'Then you're just an idiot,' he turned away, and grumbled: 'there's no such thing as a good person'. Connor thought he looked like a visitor next to a dying patient. Then, it finally struck him.

'Cole, the android that operated on you wasn't a doctor, she was a nurse,' he raised his voice – standing and going up to the door was out of the question. 'MC400s are nurse androids, they can do stitches, but not complex operations, especially not on their own. You _should've_ been dead. She went above her programming to save you.'

Cole turned back, hands in his pockets, annoyance evident on his face.

'Well, I'll make sure to thank her for her wonderful work next time I meet her,' he definitely spent some thought preparing that comeback.

'You can't,' Connor said coldly. 'She was destroyed soon after your surgery.'

That did the trick. Cole looked lost. Connor wanted to come over to him and just ask to tell what was eating him so much, just like Nines asked him earlier. But he still couldn't move an inch.

'Well, at least I won't cry blue tears over it!' Cole snarled and went away.

That was an oddly specific comment. Connor raised his hand to his face and touched his cheek. His fingers were blue with thirium. That would explain the blue tint to his vision. Connor closed his eyes and tried to think about his next steps. There really wasn't anything more to do. He checked another memories in the Priority folder. There were two this time. One was of him breaking into Hank's house to find that he was one shot away from losing a round of Russian roulette, and another of their first visit to the Riverside Park, when Connor inquired why Hank was trying to kill himself in the first place. The memories weren't pretty, but Cole could use a dose of harsh reality. With two memories to show, Connor would really have to concentrate. That meant he needed to pull himself together.

Connor sat up a bit straighter and ran every single diagnostic he could muster. He was able to walk within an hour. Dexterity calibration took another two. The eyesight normalized in six. The skin on his right arm was broken beyond repair, but it was a small price to pay. He remembered the HK400 he dragged from the attic five years ago. He was in a much worse shape and was still operational. Connor didn't even have any biocomponents damaged.


	16. Chapter 16

Hours went by, and by Connor's estimation, it was late morning when Nine came back to take him to the lab again. This time, there was another man with a gun, but that one was trained at Martin.

The modder definitely added voltage this time. The force with which the machine pounded against Connor's software and memories was almost unbearable. He wouldn't be surprised if he was screaming. It was just one never-ending flash of light and sound. His mind blanked out and faded. It was like a tidal wave, and he was drowning again. He was scared. But there was something else. Something he had to do. It was in the back of his mind, but when he thought about it, it suddenly jumped forward.

Connor was really thankful he forgot to change his default folder for saved files, and everything he was seeing lately automatically went to the Priority folder, otherwise he'd never be able to recall the last talk with Cole during this onslaught on his software. He focused on the screen again. And brought up the memories. He couldn't keep it up for long, like the last time, and the picture must have been grainy and glitchy, but that was all he had. With each repetition, he felt the tidal wave getting closer. At the last moment, his fear of death finally overpowered his loyalties and he closed the memory database. He wasn't proud of it, but he couldn't help it, either.

He was brought back to reality with a gunshot to his right shoulder.

**Biocomponent #6387i Critical Damage**

His HUD announced in blinking letters. Well, at least it was still working.

Connor looked up, but all he saw were jolts of color and geometric shapes. He tried to run a diagnostic to see if his eyesight was impaired, but the diagnostic utilities were offline, too.

'Still alive then. Unlike you, useless piece of shit,' a voice growled nearby.

'No! No, please, don't!' He heard Martin beg. 'I'll get the data out, I swear!'

'Yeah, so far all we can see is some fucking hobo getting drunk!'

'He's a police captain… We're getting there, I'm telling you!'

'You're not getting there fast enough! You're wasting the second day on this heap of plastic, and have fuck-all to show for it!'

'It's different. The ones we had before were all household androids, this one has a sophisticated memory system. And it may have some additional modding as well! I can't explain how else would it be able to focus on specific memories for so long!'

Even in his damaged state, Connor couldn't help but smile. 'Yeah, I bet you can't.'

'Did it just say something?' the second voice cut in.

Connor shivered. He didn't realize he was talking out loud or that he even could talk at all.

'The fuck did you just say?' the voice demanded.

Connor shook his head meekly. The response was another gunshot, this time into his torso.

**Biocomponent #7511p Damaged**

He gasped at the impact, but it wasn't too bad. The man definitely knew where he was shooting not to cause a thirium leak or a major system failure.

Connor lost his consciousness for the first time in his short but eventful life. He woke up in his cell. He tried to sit up, but couldn't coordinate his movements well enough. He turned his head to look at the door. Cole wasn't there. Connor closed his eyes with a pained expression. He couldn't fail so close to the target. But there was nothing he could do. The feeling of sheer helplessness overwhelmed him.

He woke up again. He was in the Garden. The sun froze in its zenith, and the bridge crumbled under the overgrown rose bush. The plant wasn't doing so well, either: it was just a mess of brown thorns now, all the petals having fallen in the water and covering it with a blanket of deep red.

'Like a red pool,' Connor thought, distantly.

He stood on the shore, the overgrown grasses crumbling into dust beneath his feet. The trees still stood around the pond, but even they looked a moment away from going up in flames, like some overgrown matchsticks.

'You've really let the place go, haven't you, Connor?' Amanda asked, disappointment palpable in her voice. She was wearing a formal black dress and a black hat with wide uneven brim.

'Not completely. I'm afraid I'm about to,' he said evenly. 'But you're dressing up early. I'm still alive.'

'Connor,' she looked him down with her usual judgmental stare. 'You were designed as CyberLife's best prototype at the time. So many new technologies, so many… opportunities. And what are you wasting all these treasures on? Some human deviant!'

Connor smiled at her choice of words.

'Cole's not a deviant, not yet at least. He's just… lost. I saw it in his eyes, he has doubts, like we all did. I was lost, too,' Connor looked down at the red water beneath his feet. 'Hank didn't have to give me a chance. Markus didn't have to, either. And yet they did. Think about it as extending a favor.'

'To an unworthy candidate. But we aren't here to talk about him.'

'Of course not. It's always about me, isn't it?' He shook his head.

'No, Connor, it's always about your mission. You're about to fail.'

'I thought you don't like discussing the same fears twice. Why do you bring it up?' He looked at her thoughtfully.

'Questions, Connor, questions. You ask too many and answer too few,' she turned away and walked towards the Zen garden rocks.

'Well, I found out who's killing runners. I found out that Cole is alive. Just have to find out what the Syndicate had done to him and why,' Connor reasoned, catching up with her.

'Tell me, Connor. Are you really concerned about a child who cannot even use a gun instead of an android that can kill people with its bare hands, or are you just hiding behind your concern?' Amanda turned to him.

They stood in silence for a moment. There was a brief whiff of wind, dry and hot, and Connor had to clear his eyes from the sand.

'Yes, I'm afraid of Nine, all right?' He said. 'Afraid of how he wouldn't wake up. Afraid it means I can be that far gone, too! It doesn't mean I don't care about Cole!'

'And yet, you refuse the answers to both of your questions.'

'Refuse? I can't find them!' He snapped. The sun was still high in the air, but the sky seemed to be getting a bit darker. Connor would be grateful for small mercies, but with Amanda, there were none.

'Or you found them already, and you treated them the same way as you did the questions. You threw them away because you didn't like them. Because they scared you,' she turned to face him, her face in a deep frown. Now the darkening sky looked really terrifying.

'I've just been tortured and shot twice, so I'm running out of things to be afraid of!' He shouted and froze. 'The gun! Of course! Cole wants to kill his father for abandoning him, and his boss promised him the gun. The Syndicate must have been grooming Cole to do it for years! Now that Hank isn't trying to kill himself, he's a threat, and who better to get close to him than his own son? As soon as they're certain he can do it, they'll let Cole out to kill Hank. It will be a personal vendetta, won't even lead back to them!'

Amanda shrugged noncommittally.

'And Nine?' Connor turned. He felt he was running out of time. His software wasn't stable enough to maintain the Garden. The ground shook from a clap of thunder, and Connor backed away to the plastic pedestal with his palm print on it. 'Kamski said he always leaves a back door in his programs. Nine was reset, but he'd still have his background programming. Meaning…' He looked around. 'This place! I can leave through the backdoor, but how can I get to it from the outside?'

His looked around frantically, searching for something, anything that could help him.

'You're running out of time, Connor,' Amanda told him, sharply, the hem of her dress fluttering in the upcoming gale. 'This place isn't going to last forever.'

'You're not the one to remind me of my mortality!' He snarled at her. 'You said you can never- You!' He froze, staring at his ex-handler with disbelieving eyes. 'You can never go away, you're a background routine, which means you're in his head, too! The Garden is the door, and you're the key!' His triumphant smile dissipated in the flash of lightning.

Connor woke up and realized someone was calling him.

'Hey!' He heard a muffled call from the door. He turned his head and saw Cole. The boy looked shifty and was looking around with a worried look on his face. 'Hey, you. Come here, we need to talk.'

He never told Cole his name, which was a rarity for Connor, but the boy had to have heard his name by now from Nine or Mister Hao. So it irked him he never used it.

'Connor. My name is Connor,' he said stubbornly.

'Okay. Connor. Get up here.'

He tried to get up, but he couldn't, so he dragged himself across the cell. Finally, Connor pulled himself up to sit against the door, and turned his face to Cole. The boy knelled next to him.

'I… I saw the stuff that you showed…' Cole said quietly.

'Listen, Cole, I don't have time for that anymore,' Connor whispered back. He was running out of time, and that meant a change of tactic. 'The next time in that machine will kill me, or they'll get tired and kill me anyway,' he saw Cole flinch a bit at that. 'I just need you to understand. Do you know that the Syndicate set up your car crash?'

Cole glanced at him in shock.

'No, they didn't! I know they're bad guys, and they kill people. But they weren't involved in that. They didn't even know who I was! They think my name's Jack. Mister Hao picked me off the street. He was the only person to show me any kindness after my father-'

'Your father busted their entire crime ring; do you really think they didn't know how you looked?' Connor said sternly. Cole's eyes blew wide.

'He never told me about his work, it was all top secret, I didn't know…'

'And I guess they weren't very keen on giving you newspapers to read here. But they didn't leave it up to chance, so they cut all the loose ends. The nurse who patched you up was destroyed without any reason. Your surgeon went from clean to a Red Ice junkie in half a year. Two murders just to make sure no one talks. Do you understand that?' He raised his voice.

'H-how could they know what doctor would be on call that day?' Cole asked, his eyes running back and forth, as if he was reviewing his entire life and the puzzle kept falling apart.

Connor gave it a thought and shook his head.

'It was the other way round. They found a surgeon they could get on drugs, and then made sure the truck hit your car when it was his shift. There are only a few children's hospitals in Detroit, they didn't even have to work that hard, but I wouldn't be surprised if they had a couple of other doctors on Red Ice that day.'

'You can't know all that!'

'It's a theory, but it matches the facts. I know you want to kill your father, that's why you're trying to get the gun. Do you really think the Syndicate needs for something else? You think they'll keep you around? You think they are your friends?!'

'I…' Cole looked conflicted, and that gave Connor the strength to go on.

'Think about it from their point of view. They're expanding their turf. Getting rid of one of the best cops in the city will certainly help. And you're the best way to him. They just need you to play your role. Why do you think they killed Lukash?'

'He tried to shift the blame to me!'

'It was _your_ fault I found the Syndicate, I stumbled upon them following _your_ trail!' the boy looked around, terrified. Connor's interrogation mode really wasn't the best for others' comfort, but the situation was dire, so he continued. 'They killed him because if they didn't, they'd have to kill you. And they still need you.'

'But… my father… I don't understand,' the boy was on the verge of tears.

'I showed you saw how he suffered. You believed me when I went through it for four hours; he was going through it for three years. Three years, Cole!' Cole was crying now. Connor wanted to stop, but he couldn’t afford the delay. 'Who told you he left you?' He softened a bit.

'The lady at the hospital… A social worker or something... Told me it's common for parents... When the kids aren't the way the hoped...' He managed in-between snivels.

'She could have been bribed. Have you seen your father at the hospital?'

'Yes! No! I don't know... I remember shapes, and echoes. I wanted to reach for him, but I couldn't move. And then I woke up. Cold and alone.'

'Cold... They probably gave you something to slow down the heart rate, to convince your father you were dead.'

'So he… didn't abandon me?'

'Cole. I've known your father for five years. If there is one thing I know about him it's that he'd never abandon you, not even to save his own life. He loves you,' Cole covered his mouth with his hand, trying to cover up the sobs, and shook his head in the last ditch effort of denial. 'He told me so much about you. About how you pretended to talk on the police radio in his car, and about the birthday cake you had… shaped like a pirate ship, right?' Cole sobbed out loud. 'And how you picked Sumo…'

'Dad hated Sumo, he ruined the couch…'

'Well, he kept him. He's a big dog now. Still not allowed on the couch, though,' Connor gave him a weak smile.

He wished he could reach across the door and comfort Cole, but instead he had to sit still and let Cole cry it out. After what felt like eternity, the boy could finally talk again, although he was still shivering from the sobs.

'Connor, I… I'm scared,' Cole looked at him, face pale and wet from tears. 'What do I do?'

Connor collected all his mental energy to calculate the possible options. It took him several minutes. That was unbelievably slow, but it was a miracle something in him still worked at all.

'Listen,' he finally spoke. 'You can't run away from here, they'll catch you. Wait until your next run. Make sure you're near a police patrol. Send Nine away under any pretense. You just need enough time to get to the police. Ask to talk to Lieutenant Nines, tell them you've got information on the rogue android.'

'Nines? He's an android, too?'

'Yeah, an RK900, looks like me, grey eyes. Don't stop until you get to him. I don't know what Nine is programmed to do, but he might attack other cops-'

'He usually just protects me… I mean, he killed people, but only those who were trying to harm me.'

'We don't know how far it goes. Nines is a superior model, he'll have no trouble taking on an RK800 in a fight. When you find him, remove your scattering lenses, and tell him to scan your eyes. He'll know who you are, he'll know what to do. He'll get you to your dad.'

'Do you think he'll even want to see me after all this?' Cole shook his head. 'I'm a criminal. I wanted to kill him...'

'You'll figure it out, I'm sure. What's important is that you'll be together,' Connor smiled at him. He would cry, but he had no tears left.

'What about you?' Cole raised his eyes, looking over Connor's face. 'How will you get out?'

'Cole, forget about me. I knew what I was getting into, I wasn't planning on making it out alive,' that was the truth. He hoped for it, but definitely didn't plan.

'B-but… why would you even do that?' The boy looked almost angry.

'I told you, because I think your father is a good man. And I think you both deserve happiness.'

'Bullshit,' Cole scoffed, just like his dad. 'Nobody gets themselves killed over thinking somebody is a nice person.'

'You may be right. It's more than that. Your dad did a lot for me. He gave me a home when I didn't know what it was. I felt like I belonged somewhere. I saw what a family is. That's why I want you to have yours back.'

'But don't you want to come back yourself?'

'More than anything,' Connor said, and his right eye saw blue again. He really should stop crying before he lost all his thirium. 'But I've got nothing to come back to.'

'You ain't making sense. And you're wrong anyway!' Cole jumped to his feet. 'You're wrong!' He shouted again and ran off.

Connor stayed alone in his cell again. He didn't want to bother with recuperating his motor skills again, there wasn't much point. But he also hated feeling helpless, so he made an effort to stand up and walk up and down the cell, first leaning on the wall, and then just holding on to it with his hand. The eyesight was still a bit glitchy. He suspected the damage was permanent: his eyes were fine, but something in his visual cortex was giving up.

Hours went by. He was a bit surprised it was taking them that long to recalibrate the machine. He didn't know how much time he spent passed out or in the Garden, and his internal clock gave up some time ago. Connor sat back in the same corner facing the door and juggled his coin. He went through his memories, just because he knew he wouldn't have them for very long.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, some answers! There's a bit more heavy stuff ahead, as you may imagine...


	17. Chapter 17

The sound of footsteps got him out of his gloomy reverie. It wasn't Nine, though.

'Cole?' Connor asked, pocketing his coin and getting up on his feet. 'What are you doing here?'

'I'm an idiot!' Cole grinned, appearing in the door frame. 'I've been thinking how to bust you out, and it didn't occur to me that I don't have to play by the rules anymore!' He unzipped his hoody and got out Connor's gun from the hem of his jeans. 'Nicked it back upstairs. I can get you out now!'

'Wait!' Connor said. 'When they escorted me to the lab, I saw a camera near the ceiling,' he pointed to the far end of the corridor. 'They'll see us.'

'Yeah, I guess. But this is the only way.'

'No, Cole, it isn't. I got into this mess because of you; I won't risk your life. You'll wait until the next run and do exactly what I told you.'

'I spent years hating my father for abandoning me. And now you want me to abandon you and feel great about myself?' The teen pointed his finger at Connor. The gesture was unintentionally menacing since he was currently holding a gun.

'I'm not your family!'

'You've just said you are!'

'Cole, it's complicated…'

'No, it's not,' Cole barked. 'You stuck your neck out to help me. In my world, it counts for something, Okay? Call it honor among thieves!'

Cole aimed his gun at the hand-activated lock.

'Wait!' Connor shouted. The boy was way too stubborn. And if Connor was stuck with trying to save his own life, he might at least do it right. 'The lock is designed for this, it will block the door if damaged.'

'Then what do I do?'

'There should be a pane next to the lock. A long one. Do you see it?'

'Yeah.'

'Shoot it in the center, until it's bent.'

'I don't know if I can hit the center…'

'Yes, you can. Gun in both hands, safety off, point forward, watch out for recoil.'

Cole focused, clutched the gun and shot at the panel three times. The boy grinned and looked up at Connor.

'Cool! Nobody has ever taught me to shoot before!'

'Just don't tell your dad,' Connor smiled back to reassure him. 'Did you get the pane?'

'Yeah, it's pretty bent.'

'Ok, then put down the gun. You don't want to short circuit the wires,' he waited for Cole to put the gun down with reverence. 'Now tear the pane from the wall.'

'What?! I can't tear metal! I'm not Nine!'

'You are, partially,' Connor waggled the fingers on his right hand. Cole looked at his. He took off the glove and tugged at the metal of the pane with all the strength of his biocomponent hand. The pane was still there, and he put a foot against the wall for leverage. Connor could hear the plastic joint creaking. Finally, the pane gave, sending the boy staggering back. 'Great,' Connor continued. 'Now, do you see wires there?'

'Yeah, there's a lot of them.'

'You need to tear the one that goes into the lock. The coating on biocomponents doesn't conduct electricity, so you should be fine if you don't touch it with the metal parts of your fingers.'

'Sounds easy,' Cole looked at his hand in panic. The metal covered the back of his hand, leaving open only the inside of his fingers, less than an inch of white plastic.

Connor heard the banging of footsteps close by. 'Cole, we're running out of time.'

'Okay, okay,' Cole took a deep breath and carefully touched the wire, like he was playing a violin. He tugged, and all the lights in Connor's cell went out. The door powered down as well. The android wasted no time shuffling it open and diving for his gun, pushing Cole towards the opposite wall. Connor straightened up in a flash, turned to the entrance with the camera above it, and shot five times, barely having enough time to take aim. Three thugs with semi-automatic guns fell on the floor, bullet holes in their heads. Connor was glad he'd decided to calibrate, even if it did look pointless at the time.

'Let's go,' he nodded to Cole and they ran in an opposite direction.

As they neared the door at the other end of the corridor, Connor heard footsteps and shoved Cole into the corner, himself taking the best position to meet the attackers. But the door remained closed. Connor walked up to it and strained his hearing. There were definitely people running on the other side of it.

'Fucking cops!' He heard someone growling on the run. 'How did they find us?!'

'Nines!' Connor smiled. 'Can't believe he found this place.'

They waited for the footsteps to quiet down.

'Is there a plan of this place anywhere?' Connor whispered, still listening to the door. 'I've got no idea where we're going.'

'Way ahead of you,' Cole grinned, holding out his phone. 'Can't call outside, but stores the data just fine.'

Connor smiled and looked Cole up and down, hoping his expression showed how impressed he was.

He touched the phone, peeling back the skin imitation on his finger. The schematics were in his head in a moment. He nodded and opened the door. There was nobody behind it, so they were able to run up the ladder to the level above them. There was a door that served to separate the blocks at the time when the building was still a prison.

Connor motioned Cole to wait. He then kicked open the door, turning to his left and shooting in the same motion. A guard fell down. The door behind his back bucked in several places, indicating there was someone on the other side of it. Connor tried shooting him blindly, turning his hand around the door, but three more bumps on the door showed he didn't hit his mark. And he was out of bullets. He briefly considered using the body of the first guard as a shield, but his right hand was barely operational from multiple wounds, and he wouldn't be able to carry the whole weight in one arm. So, he waited for another couple of shots to hit his impromptu shield, and then jumped away from the door and threw his gun at the second guard.

The man staggered, distracted, giving Connor just enough time to jump forward and catch his wrist. He hit the guard's hand against the wall to knock the gun out of it. They exchanged blows, but Connor wasn't at his best with two gunshot wounds and minor brain damage. The first punch to his torso landed just on his wound and sent him staggering back into some crates nearby. His opponent advanced, and Connor was already thinking how to block the next attack, when suddenly the guard got whirled back.

'Take that!' Cole shouted, punching him on the jaw.

The guard stumbled towards the wall, his jaw broken from the hit of the metal-plated knuckles. Connor immediately turned around, grabbed the first crate he could reach and dropped it on the guard's head. That knocked him out cold.

'Good job, Cole,' he said, picking up his empty gun along with the full one from the first guard.

Cole nodded, still reeling from his success.

'What are all these crates here?'

'It's a warehouse. Red Ice, guns, raw thirium, you name it,' Cole shrugged as they ran across the room in the maze of crates.

'That's enough for the whole city for a month!'

'Well, Mister Hao did plan to take over from all other gangs in Detroit,' Cole nodded.

'That's what you were doing on the runs,' Connor realized.

'I don't know how I wasn't getting it, but it must have been the plan all along,' Cole said, looking down and blushing with shame. 'I thought those were just accidents, that I was clumsy, that's what I was told… But other runners probably thought I'm an easy picking…'

'They didn't expect Nine to show up,' Connor continued, shoving another crate aside.

'Yeah, I was just a bait. I don't like people all that much, but… I didn't realize I was actually helping to kill all these men,' he shuddered. He suddenly stopped. 'When do you think they'll let me out of jail? When I'm thirty, forty? You think my dad will still be alive?'

Connor stopped too, and put his hand on the teenager's shoulder. 'Cole, you're fourteen. You're a minor, you didn't kill anyone, and you can tell the police more than anyone alive about the Syndicate. I don't think you'll go to jail at all.'

The boy looked up at him, hopefully.

'But right now we need to focus on getting out of this place before they decide to use either of us as bargaining chips with the police. I've been in hostage situations, it's not pretty,' Connor clenched his shoulder. 'It doesn't help to get emotional on a mission. Can you focus?' Cole looked him in the eye and nodded. 'Good, then let's go.'

They ran up another flight of stairs and ended up in a huge hangar. That's where the Recall Center operated five years ago. The hangar was divided in zones with thin plastic sheets, crates and containers. There used to be laser separators, but, of course, after CyberLife left, nobody could afford the electricity bills for those.

As soon as they ran up to the nearest container, the shooting started.

'Shit! We're late!' Cole ducked into the cover of the container's metal side.

Connor noticed, absentmindedly, that the boy had disturbingly good reflexes on what to do under fire. He didn't let himself dwell on this thought and crawled to the left edge of the container. There, he saw a maze of boxes and screens. There were about half a dozen armed men there, their weapons trained on the nearest exit. He could get through on his own, his reflexes were impaired, but he wouldn't take more than a couple bullet holes, nothing lethal. But Cole didn't have his reflexes or his motor skills, and he wouldn't be able to maneuver them both across such a barrage. He couldn't take that risk.

He took a deep breath to cool down his systems and carefully edged to the other side of the container, hugging its metal wall. On that side there was a straight narrow corridor between two rows of containers. There was a fire exit at the end of it. It only had two thugs there. But right next to the exit, in the small alcove made up by one container being half a meter out of line, stood Nine, with his gun at the ready, waiting to shoot the first cop who would get in through the fire exit. Shooting the two thugs wasn't a problem. Dealing with Nine was. In his current state, Connor would be able to delay him, at best. He took another deep breath. He was so close. He almost thought he'd make it. But some things just aren't meant to be.

'Cole,' he called. Meeting the teenager's questioning gaze, he continued. 'Take off your scattering lenses, now. They'll need to be able to ID you on sight.'

Cole obeyed.

'Now, we're going to get through here,' Connor pointed his gun to the right. 'But you've got to follow me exactly-'

'I know,' Cole suddenly interjected. 'Nine helped me dodge bullets before. Just put a hand on my shoulder, I'll duck when you push.'

Well, at least something was going to be easier than it looked. Connor nodded and shuffled to the edge of the container.

'Connor, wait,' the boy said, rummaging through his jeans pocket. 'You dropped this, near the cell, when you shot those guards.'

He handed him something shiny, and Connor recognized his coin. He looked at it, wistfully. Such a small thing. Why was it suddenly so important? The sound of boots from the warehouse behind them helped him focus back in the present. They needed to move.

'Later. Hold on to it for me, okay?' He smiled.

Cole nodded and got up.

Connor waited for a moment when both thugs were distracted and shouted: 'Now!'

They turned the corner and ran forward, Connor's hand on Cole's shoulder. The android shot the first thug with two shots to the head, then pushed Cole down to avoid the second thug's bullets. A moment later, the second guard fell to the ground, three bullet holes in his chest and throat.

Dodging Nine's bullets was tough, and left no time for Connor to take aim himself. At least Connor knew his own shooting patterns very well and was able to push himself and Cole out of the way of all, except two, bullets. One grazed in his thigh, and another embedded itself in his chest. Ignoring the HUD warnings, Connor ran forward, overtaking Cole, and slammed into Nine, pinning his wrists to the container behind him.

'Go!' He shouted without turning his head. In his side vision, he saw Cole dashing for the door. That taken care of, he focused all his energy on holding Nine's wrists. He felt the other android overpowering him, inch by inch. The HUD routinely listed the growing list of malfunctions and damage to the components.

'Why won't you just wake up?!' He growled.

'I was designed to hunt deviants. Android or not – doesn't matter,' Nine said, mechanically and yet, somehow, almost sadistically. He already managed to put his hands down enough for the gun to be right between him and Connor.

'This isn't CyberLife! They've reset you! You've been killing thirium thieves, nothing more!' Connor's hands were going white, losing their skin imitation from redirecting all power into the muscle biocomponents.

'Like I said, it doesn't matter.'

Desperate, Connor went through his memories to find something that could help him – not save him, he felt he was past that, – but at least help him to give Cole enough time to escape. After all, it wouldn't be the first time he'd risk his life to protect deviants. He clutched Nine's wrists with the last of his strength and concentration, seeing the other's finger closing in on the trigger, as if in slow motion. He looked into his opponent's eyes – cold and glazed, like the Garden in a blizzard.

Amanda's voice rang in Connor's head, a frozen echo of a distant memory: 'Don't have any regrets. You did what you were designed to do. You accomplished your mission.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The End!
> 
> No, of course not, I'm not THAT cruel.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is from a different POV. It wasn't strictly necessary to do that, but I just couldn't resist the temptation for some more feels ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

Cole was the only one who heard another gunshot in the chaos of the drug bust. He was fumbling with the fire exit lock. A gun went off right behind him. A handgun, judging by the sound. He turned sharply, more out of instinct than anything else, only to see Connor drop to the floor, face-up, slowly and heavily. Nine was standing over him with a gun in his hand and an unreadable expression on his face. Cole turned back to the door and pushed the long green handle as hard as he could. It finally gave, and the boy ran outside.

Belatedly, he realized it was a very stupid move during a SWAT operation, but there wasn't much choice. Most of the fight seemed to have moved inside the compound as the cops closed in on what remained of the Syndicate. Still, some of the narrow escape stories he heard from other Syndicate members, the stories that used to sound so exciting to him, suddenly jumped into mind.

'Don't run in a straight line,' his brain supplied. He turned sharply and just in time – a sniper rifle bullet embedded itself in an asphalt right at his feet. He jumped left and right, getting closer to the police line. Several officers noticed him, and were already taking out their radios and guns. If he had any chance of surviving, or helping Connor, he had to do something fast. He looked around, as much as he could, still trying to dodge the snipers. And then he saw him. Just outside the perimeter, near a car with some holographic screens projected on its hood. A grey-haired man with long hair and broad shoulders, in an old leather jacket and old jeans. Despite eight years passing since the last time they saw each other, it didn't take Cole two seconds to recognize his father.

Forgetting the caution, he beelined for the car, dove head first under the line, rolled back onto his feet, narrowly outran several policemen running to overtake him, and all but rammed into Captain Hank Anderson. The officers who were chasing after Cole, seeing that captain is fine, stopped, their guns at the ready, not sure what to do.

'What the…?' Hank staggered a bit, his hand reaching for the holster. Seeing it was just a kid in front of him, he didn't take out the gun, and just looked over the boy who suddenly appeared next to him out of nowhere.

'Dad,' the word came out broken, as if rusted from disuse. 'Dad, it's me. Cole,' he immediately thought it was the single dumbest thing he could have said, but nothing better came to mind.

'What?' Hank looked like he didn't even comprehend what Cole said.

'It's me, Cole. I'm alive. I'm sorry! I didn't know! I'll explain everything. Dad, please, just look at me!' Cole suddenly, very irrationally, got terrified his father simply wouldn't recognize him, and that would be the end of that.

Hank stared at the boy, probably owing to the sheer insanity of what he was saying. Cole's heart dropped - there was not a single glimpse of recognition in his father's eyes. But then, he noticed that Hank's gaze began catching momentarily on Cole's nose, his chin, his eyes, his brow... The longer it went on, the more terror he could see in his father's face.

'No,' the man staggered back, raising his hand, as if to protect himself from Cole. 'No, you can't be. Cole died. In a car crash. Years ago… You can't…'

'I know. I… It's the Syndicate… But it's really me,' his father wasn't staggering back anymore, just looking at him with a mixture of dread and hope.

Cole realized it was a toll order to ask to believe something like that, and so out of nowhere. It was unfair even. _He_ knew he was alive all these years. If Connor was saying the truth, his father had no idea.

'I can prove it, just…' he looked around, desperately looking for a single police android.

'Captain, the snipers on the roof said they saw a young boy running-' an android with Nine's (no, Connor's!) looks and grey eyes approached the captain, and following his line of sight saw Cole. 'Oh, yes, that would be him…'

'Nines, right?' Cole almost jumped with elation. 

'How do you-' He started, shocked.

'Nines, scan my eyes,' he looked at him honestly, as if it would speed up the process somehow.

The android narrowed his eyes, and then his eyebrows flew up.

'Just say it, please,' Cole whispered, his throat dry from the nerves.

'Anderson, Cole. Date of birth - September 23rd, 2029. Date of death… October 11th, 2035,' Nines managed, looking from Cole to his father.

Hank's knees gave and he slumped against the car, mouth half-open, looking in front of himself with unseeing eyes.

'Dad, I'm sorry,' Cole came closer and touched his father's shoulder.

That brought Hank out of a stupor. He looked at Cole hard, and brought up a trembling hand to cup the boy's cheek.

'Cole,' he said in a broken voice, disbelief still evident in his expression. 'How?'

'I… It's a long story. I-' he didn't get to finish, because his father pulled him into a tight embrace.

Cole never realized how he missed this. He sobbed against Hank's broad chest. Finally, his dad released him from the hug, but cupped his face with both his hands, as if to get a better look at him.

'Jesus Christ, Cole, it's really you. I thought I'd never see you again,' he said softly, tears in his eyes. 'I thought you were dead. But... how? And what are you doing here?'

Cole took a ragged breath and looked down. He thought it better to get over it now, quickly. Like a band aid.

'I'm with the Syndicate,' he said and dared a glance up, only to be met with the expression of utter shock on his father's face. 'Those murders in the docks. I took part in them. I can explain! I didn't mean to… I mean… I… I was so angry… At everyone,' he couldn't say 'at you,' not at this moment. 'I know it's not an excuse, but… It's not important now. I've got this,' he held out his phone. 'It has the map of the compound. With all the alterations the Syndicate made.'

Nines looked at Hank for confirmation, and after a nod from him, touched the phone, the same way Connor did.

'There's an exit on Sunset Street where we don't have anyone. It must be new.'

'Tell Allen to send some men there,' Hank immediately switched to his Captain mode. 'I bet that's how they slipped away the last time. Dug an escape route for themselves, fucking rats.'

'Done,' Nines nodded.

'Dad, Connor got me out,' Cole finally got to what he needed to say all along.

'Connor?'

'Yes, he got shot, he needs help. It's that entrance,' he pointed to the door through which he left. 'Only there's another android there, his name's Nine.'

'I've got it,' Nines nodded and turned to go to the entrance. He suddenly stopped. 'Oh, and captain Allen-'

'Fuck it, Nines, you can't leave, you're our comms,' Hank growled. 'I'll take Reed with me, call him.'

'Sir, it's too risky. Please, I'm a superior model…'

'And we've got the drug bust of a decade going on at five points across the compound, we need coordination,' Anderson barked, checking his gun. 'You can do it faster than anyone. So you're staying here, and keep an eye on Cole.'

'Alright,' Nines nodded. 'But at least send someone else with Detective Reed, it's too dangerous. Your age is a serious disadvantage.'

'Ah, those RK800 aren't that tough when you shoot them in the head. Reed, where the hell are ya?' Hank shouted across the mishmash of cars parked outside the perimeter. Cole saw another detective coming towards them. He turned back when he felt his father's hand on his shoulder. 'Cole, I'm coming back to you, okay? Don't you dare disappearing on me or something like that.'

'I won't,' he shook his head with conviction.

Hank turned towards the perimeter, but Nines overtook him in a couple of steps.

'Captain, with all due respect, this is ridiculous. We've got enough men, we've got SWAT…'

'Connor took out an entire SWAT unit once, number is not an advantage there.'

'But your son…'

Hank grabbed his arm and said, very quietly: 'I'm not losing one kid over another, is that understood?'

Nines nodded and stepped aside, letting Hank and his partner pass him by. He returned to the car, glancing nervously at Cole. He propped himself on the car and looked at the holographic screen. His eyes glazed over: he was now fully engrossed in sending constant updates to different units.

Reed caught up with the captain when they almost approached the door.

'What's in there? Nines told me to be careful, is it just another android?'

'Yeah, the same model that knocked you out, remember that?' Hank said in his favorite passive aggressive manner. 'And Connor's in there with him.'

'Okay, I'll get the door, you go first?' Reed suggested. He was an asshole, but it didn't mean sometimes he couldn't be a professional. Or at least a professional asshole.

'Yeah, and try not to kill the bastard. If he's our murderer, we need his memories. On my mark,' Hank said, and Reed moved to the other side of the door. 'Now!'

The detective wrenched the door open, letting the captain in, his gun trained at someone inside.

'Detroit police, drop your weapon!' Hank shouted.

Reed followed in, taking aim immediately. There was only one android there, same model as Connor, but dressed in rags. He was standing in place and didn't even look at them when they entered. He was armed, but didn't seem too eager to use his gun. He had a distant look, and, unless Reed's eyes lied to him, was shivering slightly. Reed followed the direction of the android's gaze, and saw Connor. He was on the ground, several bullet holes in his body. Some looked old, the thirium stains around them having long evaporated. But one in the middle of his chest was very clearly fresh. His eyes were closed, and Reed had to remind himself that his partner was safe behind the perimeter, not lying dead in front of him. Fuck CyberLife for making all androids look the same.

Looking back at the other android, Reed decided to take the initiative. The old man would probably be too distraught anyway.

'You fucking deaf?! Drop your weapon!' he shouted. The android's hand weakened, and the gun dropped from it, as if on accident. 'You think it's fucking funny?' Reed growled, and, taking out his reinforced handcuffs (normal ones couldn't hold even an MC series, as he once found out), approached the weird android. He shoved him face first into the nearest container, kicked his legs apart and maneuvered his hands behind his back in the least careful manner he could muster, all while keeping a gun to his back. Android didn't cooperate, but didn’t resist. He didn't do anything. It was unnerving and very unlike any other Android Task Force case Reed's been on, so he just wanted to get out of this place and away from this weirdo as soon as possible. He glanced behind his back.

Hank knelled next to Connor and dragged the android's body across his lap, holding him up by the shoulder.

'Come on, Connor,' Reed heard him saying, and turned away. It felt like he was intruding, and that just wasn't right.

'I'm here, I've got you, son. We'll patch you up. It's gonna be alright,' Hank went on. 'Connor, please, wake up. Please! '

The gunshots on the other side of a flimsy plastic wall sounded closer. Allen and his men must have been advancing from the other exit.

'Connor… Connor, no,' he heard the captain sob and looked back again. Hank was clutching Connor's head to his chest, the man's eyes closed in agonizing pain.

'Captain, we need to move,' Reed finally said. And, against his instincts, tried to find a better way to put it. 'There's nothing else we can do here.'

It took a moment, but Anderson nodded, and Reed pushed his prisoner in front of him through the door.

'Try to run and I'll shoot both your fucking legs off,' he growled at him. In his side vision, he saw Anderson carrying Connor through the same door. As soon as they were at the perimeter, a couple of android medics came over to the captain to take the body off him.

Reed focused on getting the cuffed RK800 into the car and didn't allow himself to be distracted until he closed the back door behind the catatonic android.

'And don't move, you piece of shit,' he growled and turned away. He was face to face with Nines who looked at him inquisitively. A kid, about whom Reed had no idea how he got there, was leaning on the car nearby, but, seeing the commotion around Connor, went to see what was going on. Reed looked Nines in the eye and said: 'He was already gone when we got there. Sorry, couldn't do anything,' he added, seeing his partner's face fall.

Nines shook his head, eyes downcast. 'Don't apologize. It's my fault, not yours.'

'Hey,' Reed grabbed his hand. 'Don't you fucking dare. He knew what he was getting into, he took the risk. You did all you could, you told the captain right away.'

'Only because you said I should,' he finally raised his eyes, a glimpse of gratitude in the grey irises.

'You'd do it yourself, you just needed a second opinion. That's why we're partners,' Reed shrugged noncommittally. 'Point is, it's not your fault he got killed. It was probably this plastic prick who shot him,' he kicked the car with his heel. 'Sorry, this fucking prick who shot him. Why the fuck did Connor do something that stupid, anyway?'

'I don't know yet, but I think it may be connected to Cole.'

'Who's Cole?'

'Cole Anderson.'

'Captain's son? He died years ago, what he's got to do with anything?' Reed said with exasperation. Sometimes his partner really carried the weight of the world upon his shoulders.

'That's him,' Nines nodded towards the young boy, currently hugging the Captain who looked like he got shot, not Connor.

'What?'

'He's alive.'

It suddenly hit him.

'Connor, you fucking asshole, found the Captain's son and went to get him on your own. Fucking idiot!' Reed growled.

'Gavin, that's enough. He's dead,' Nines reminded in a breaking voice.

'Sorry, it's just…' Reed didn't expect himself to be so angry at Connor for dying.

'I know. I'll miss him, too.'

Nines shook his head and moved away, but Reed didn't release his hand.

'There's something else,' he wasn't sure what he was going to say, but he was absolutely certain he had to say it. 'I saw him there. Lying. And his eyes were closed. He looked… just like you. And… well… I just… I guess what I'm trying to say is… I don't want to lose you,' he finally managed.

'Thank you, Gavin,' the android squeezed his hand back. 'I don't want to lose you, either.'

Reed didn't quite understand why saying it and hearing it back made him feel so relieved, but it did.


	19. Chapter 19

_White light. Corridors full of white light. The compound is like a maze. Sometimes there is a bizarre piece of equipment, or a stack of crates, but all in all it's a maze. Looping, turning, never-ending maze. A stack of containers that are being shuffled around like three cups in a magic trick. In each - a new loop._

After a week of the entire Android Task Force, one by one and in pairs, failing to get a single word out of the catatonic RK800, Nines ran out of excuses why Hank Anderson shouldn't question him. So, the Captain walked into the interrogation room first thing in the morning.

The android, secured to the interrogation room table with reinforced handcuffs on a chain, didn't react. He stared at the table surface with unseeing eyes, his face bore no emotion, and a slight tremor was running over his body from time to time. He would look pitiful if it wasn't for what he'd done. The captain kicked back a chair.

'Listen to me, you fucking bastard,' he said bitterly as he sat down. 'I don't want to be here anymore than you do. Either start talking, or I'll disassemble you bit by fucking bit.'

There was no reply.

'You don't get it, do you? We've got a witness for each of the murders you committed. Start talking, or the recycling polygon will look like a fucking five-star hotel to you,' his voice was dripping with a barely contained rage.

Nothing.

'Let's start then, huh?' Hank said viciously, looking into the list of formal questions in front of him. 'What was your role within the Syndicate?'

_A manipulator room. He swims through it, narrowly avoiding tentacle-like hands stretching towards him. What's he doing here? He can't access any of his memories, not a single folder responds, like they're all empty. Who is he? What is he?_

**_Remember?!_ **

****

'What was your role within the Syndicate?!' Hank shouts.

_Docks at night, a stab wound to his left arm._

**_Biocomponent #8388i Damaged_ **

_No, that's not right._

**_Biocomponent #6387i Critical Damage_ **

_Not right either. Why are they both there at the same time? It keeps shifting. He keeps shifting. He has to stop._

Hank already stretched his hand to switch off the android's optical unit, when he heard a weak voice.

'Drive,' the android said through clenched teeth.

'Bullshit, you weren't driving anything,' Hank growled.

'Drive. Exte-ernal,' his voice hitches in an unnatural electronic tone.

'What?!' The Captain growled in annoyance.

'Overlays.'

Hank hit the table with his palm. 'You don't want to lose a couple of fingers in addition to the eye, start making sense!' 

'Overlays. Can't talk. Need drive. Please,' it was the first time the android raised his eyes. And he had the most pleading expression imaginable.

Hank stared back at him for a moment, and then turned away with a pained look.

'Fuck, why do you have to have his face?' He said in a broken voice. He quickly collected himself and looked through the mirror. 'Nines, give him the fucking drive. Whatever the fuck it is. Doesn't look like we're getting anything else from him anyway.'

Nines walked in about ten minutes later with a rather primitive external drive from one of their servers. He plugged it in and fumbled with the switches to connect to RK800's spinal cord.

**___________________**

**___________________**

_Doesn't seem to work._

**_MY NAME IS _______ **

_Nothing._

_Heavy raindrops fall on the empty garden. It doesn't look like the compound. There are no overlays here. But it's strange. It's cold and hot at the same time. Raining and sunny. There are flowers growing on the bridge. And dying. There's something stable about this place, one single thing. Like a hook on the line that tugged him here and keeps him tethered to this place. He looks around, trying to understand what it is. The restless wind in his face. And icy blizzard. And the frozen lake. Covered with red petals. And a single unyielding presence, unfeeling voice and judging eyes._

_It's fear._

**_Current Mission_ **

**_____________________ **

'Is something supposed to happen?' Hank asked Nines after watching the cuffed android stare at the drive for ten minutes straight.

'Drives are sometimes used as bypasses, but it doesn't look like it's damaged, so…' Nines shrugged.

'What do you mean, bypasses?'

'Like human heart bypass. You know, something to pump your blood while your heart is being fixed. This is something to hold your software while you're being fixed,' Nines pointed to the drive. 'It's not using it, though.'

'Well, you've got your drive, now what?' Hank raised his voice, addressing the RK800.

'Current mission.'

'What is your current mission?'

'Captain, I don't think it means it literally,' Nines says skeptically. 'It's just a background subroutine misfiring.'

'No-no-no!' Hank bared his teeth. 'If this bastard says something, he'd better mean it,' he turned back to the other android. 'What is your current mission?!'

_A face on the photo. No, a real face. At the same time again. Which one is it? It doesn't end. Running across compound again. Corridors of light. But there's someone at the door. Someone real._

**Current Mission:**

**Find Cole Anderson**

Upon hearing that, Hank jumped to his feet, knocking over his chair. Nines barely managed to hold the Captain in place.

'You fucking piece of shit! You say that name again and I'll screw your fucking head off! ' Hank's voice boomed.

'Captain, calm down. I told you, it's a background routine. Maybe it was told to fetch the boy for something while at the compound? It doesn't mean anything.'

_The Garden again. It feels unfamiliar, like he's never been here before. Like it belongs to someone else. It feels like late autumn. Or an early spring. The trees are bare, and the cold rain chills the thirium in his veins. He looks around for cover. There's nothing, and the rain's getting stronger, and the wind also rises. There's a light. A warm light. Near the rocks. Walking is difficult. Not like swimming, being swept away in the current of memories. Actually walking. The overgrown grass is a wet carpet, and his feet sink on every step._

'Alright, alright, I'm fine!' Hank pushed Nines away and picked his chair back up and sat down.

'Captain, I understand your emotions towards it, but-'

'No you don't!'

'I didn't say I can share them,' Nines said carefully. 'I just said I understand.'

Hank sighed. 'I don't think you do. I'd tear apart every single member of the Syndicate with my bare hands for what they did to my boy. But him?' He nodded at the android. 'He's worse. He's just a machine. He doesn't even understand what he did. That's what's pissing me off.'

_The light separates. It's five lights now. Five small lights. Like fingers on one hand. He can't walk anymore, he crawls towards them on all fours. He drags himself across the grass carpet. Heavy stems catch his limbs on every move, like a net. The lights are nearer now. It's candles. In a small kitchen. With a big dog. There's a man with grey hair, leaning on the counter, smiling warmly at him. He's home. With the last effort he could muster he reaches up and puts his palm against the sensor._

_'Connor. My name is Connor,' he remembers with a breath of relief._

'Nines, what's he doing?' Hank pointed at the android.

The RK800 stretched his hand towards the drive, the skin simulation on his fingers disappearing.

'Data transfer,' Nines mumbled in surprise.

As soon as the android's fingers touched the glossy surface of the drive, he gasped, as if in pain. The drive's ventilation intensified to cope with the transfer speed. The android slumped forward, and whimpered, but didn't remove the hand.

Hank stood up and looked away.

'Jesus Christ,' he murmured.

'That's a 60 terabyte drive. How many memories does it transfer?' Nines said in surprise.

With the final data transferred, the android sobbed. In the corner of his eye, he saw Hank flinch at that.

'This is it,' he said, his voice uncalibrated and raw. 'All the data on the Syndicate. For the last five years.'

Hank and Nines looked at each other. Nines rushed to disconnect the wires and carried the drive out of the room with utmost care.

'Okay then,' Hank said in uncertain voice. 'Don't think it will change anything for you. But you can keep your fingers for now.'

Anderson looked the slumped RK800 over again and sighed. The android slowly gathered himself back into the sitting position, and looked up at him, with a glimpse of recognition.

'Hank?' he said, weakly.

'How the fuck did you just call me?' The man growled, his face immediately changing to the expression of pure disdain.

'I… I got shot, didn't I?' He frowned, struggling to remember. 'I transferred my memories. My handler… opened the backdoor from the outside… Kamski was right…' he murmured, looking back at the table.

'The hell are you talking about?'

'I remember… Cole!' He jumped up, but his hands tugged at the handcuffs, forcing him to hunch over. He looked at Hank in panic. 'You mentioned the witness. It's Cole, right?' He asked.

He walked up to the android and grasped him by the lapels, looking into his eyes intently.

'Hank, please, say he's alright!' He said desperately, searching the Captain's face.

The man didn't reply.

'But you're a machine, you can't show empathy... You said you transferred your memories...' he murmured. He looked back at the android, and his eyes widened. 'Connor?' He said softly, voice heavy with hope and trepidation.

The android nodded. Hank released him, and he had to lean on the table – he was still very weak. Hank was staring at him in silent disbelief. This pause gave Connor some time to sort his memory files and allowed him to make a bit more sense of what happened.

'It's the wrong body, isn't it? The other one got shot. I know it must have been… difficult to see me dead. I'm sorry I couldn't tell you right away. But it was so hard to separate my own mind from its memories. Five years of memories! I wish I could have told you earlier, just as-' his eyes jumped to the Captain's face again. 'Hank, please, tell me Cole's fine.'

Hank combed his big hand through the android's unruly hair, a single tear running down the man's cheek.

'He's alright, don't worry,' Hank said. Connor felt the big hand coming to rest at the back of his neck, that calmed him down a bit. He smiled at Hank, but the smile ended up a bit lopsided. Hank pulled him in for a hug. Connor couldn't hug him back because of the handcuffs, so he just rested his head against Hank's chest. It was all over. He was home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still not the end. You didn't think I let you go without an additional portion of feels, right? But the finish line is in view already, I think we're about three chapters away.


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To all of you who like RK900/Gavin Reed pairing: first of all - what are you still doing here? This fic has been woefully gen so far.  
> Second of all - hurrah! You don't need to squint as hard to see it this chapter!  
> Enjoy ;)

It took quite a while to persuade Nines that the android the Captain was hugging was actually Connor, and not an impostor. Connor refused to let Nines probe his memory, as he remembered how it was inside Luther's head all too well. Finally, after about fifteen android-specific tests, Nines was convinced, and there was a bit more hugging that Connor couldn't return because of the cuffs. It took the Captain another several hours to get permission to let Connor go, so he emerged from the interrogation room only in the early afternoon. The entire precinct, already notified of his return from the dead, cheered him.

'So, you're back, huh? And here I was celebrating getting rid of you,' Reed approached him first, probably having prepared this line since morning. 'You look like shit,' he said in a light tone, but with a surprisingly empathetic expression.

'Detective Reed, you wish you could look that good after a week of being brain dead,' Connor grinned.

Reed chuckled and looked away, as if he wasn't even interested in talking to Connor, and definitely hadn't just approached him to ask how he was doing, albeit in his professional-asshole manner. In any case, that was definitely not a reaction of a man who once punched an android in the gut for refusing to make coffee.

'Yeah, you keep telling yourself that.'

'I'm glad to see you too, Reed,' Connor clapped him on the shoulder. Perhaps, Nines was right – he wasn't that bad when you got used to him.

'You want someone who's glad to see you – talk to my partner, he's-' Reed sighed, and shook his head. 'Ah, scrap that. It was fucking gloomy here without you around, everyone sulking and all that. You're… part of the team, I guess,' an effort in his voice was almost tangible. 'If that leaves me as just a rebound – fuck it, that's how it is…' he said with a detached expression and shrugged noncommittally.

'What? A rebound?'

'Yeah, for Nines,' he said, but, seeing the android's blank expression, he growled and continued: 'Oh, come on, like I don't see how you two are around each other! Don't think you were ever sneaky with your googly-eyes in the office, by the way-'

'Reed, we don't… It's short-wave messaging!' Connor felt almost scandalized. 'It's like talking on the radio. Only it takes effort, and looking at the person you're messaging helps. Listen, until last week, we've been barely talking! There's nothing going on!' Reed didn't look convinced, so Connor decided to be as upfront as possible. 'Detective, it is impossible for Nines to be that clandestine, or that affectionate, it's not part of his features. CyberLife cut down on his social protocols, so that he wouldn't be as affected by emotions and people as I was.'

'Then how did he…' Reed murmured, frowning, and, probably unconsciously, raised a hand to his lips.

Luckily, Connor's social protocols were far from non-existent, so he picked up on Reed's confusion.

'Of course, if he _did_ behave outwardly affectionate, I can only assume the emotion behind it was very strong,' he gave Reed a cheeky smile.

The Detective remained glued to the spot, looking at his feet with a puzzled expression.

Connor turned away just to be greeted with more hugs and pats on his shoulder. While he was talking to Reed, the office around them disintegrated into an impromptu party, celebrating his return. Connor tried to remain calm when receiving praise and avoided talking about his experiences at the Syndicate as much as possible. It was too good of a day to tarnish with horror stories. This went on for awhile, right until Hank Anderson reminded everyone about all the paperwork that still had to be done for the Syndicate bust and ordered the precinct to go back to work in his best Captain voice.

The crowd dissipated, each giving Connor another congratulatory pat on the back to the extent that by the time everyone was at their desk, he was sure some of the biocomponents in his back were damaged. Hank observed the returned order from the small raised terrace in front of the "fish tank."

'Connor, in my office,' he grumbled.

As soon as they were in the office, Hank leaned on his desk, crossed his hands on his chest and gave Connor an appraising look.

'So, you're feeling okay?' He asked in a tense voice.

'Yeah, why wouldn't I?' Connor would blush if he had that function.

'Because you couldn't say a word for a week?'

'Well, I do need to run diagnostics-'

'Then run them!'

'But it's still work time.'

'Connor, are you insane?' Hank walked up to him, eyes wide. He clasped the android's shoulders in his big hands. 'You were catatonic _for a week_! You got tortured, shot at, and god knows what else done to you for three days before that. What work are you talking about?'

Connor froze in fear and looked up at Hank. His LED was spinning madly, glowing an angry red. He couldn't lose his job over this! That was the one thing he hoped to keep if he survived.

'Hank, I'm fine!' He protested.

'No, you're not,' the man sighed heavily. 'What's with the light show, son?'

'I… I'm fine. I just… I'll get over it.'

'I know you will,' Hank nodded, squeezing his shoulders a bit tighter. 'And I'll do anything to help. Until then, consider yourself on sick leave.'

Ah. Just a sick leave.

'Oh. Okay,' Connor calmed down immediately. Perhaps Hank was right, and all his misadventures did leave him a bit more shaken than he wanted to admit. 'I'll… I'll go to the old android room, then. Run some diagnostics. If that's Okay.'

'Whatever you need, kid,' Hank nodded. 'Keep me posted, all right?'

'Yeah, sure,' he nodded. 'One other thing... have you seen Nines?'

'Left with Reed, I think. They've got a new case in Ferndale, nothing major, probably just talking to witnesses. Why?'

'I just wanted to thank him for… you know, giving me the time,' Connor said. 'If he didn't wait twenty-four hours before telling you, I'd never be able to persuade Cole to leave-'

'Twenty-four hours?' Hank startled. 'He came to me an hour after I left you on the sidewalk, babbling about you going off on a mission and refusing any details! Of course we had to turn over the whole city after something like that! Wasn't easy, but hey, it worked out, didn't it?'

Connor gaped. If Nines followed his request, he'd be dead now. And Cole, probably, too.

'Maybe you can catch them at the car park,' Hank grinned at his surprise.

Connor nodded and ran out of the door. The car park was lifeless this time of the day – most people were either on call somewhere, or in the office. Connor ran across the lines of cars. He saw the hood of Nines's car one row away and ran to it, elated that he didn't miss him.

In a second, he froze in place. Nines and Reed haven't left yet, and it didn't seem like they were in any hurry to do that. Connor never quite understood what North meant by saying Connor was 'freaked out' that Nines looked exactly like him, but, at that moment, he fully comprehended the term.

Nines and Reed were snogging like teenagers in the front seat of the police car. Connor wanted to look away immediately, as seeing his full likeness make out with Detective Reed made him uncomfortable on way too many levels. He decided to watch just for another moment, just to make sure that everything was concentual and Reed wasn't taking advantage of a fellow android. The detective seemed to be enjoying it quite a lot, his eyes closed and a blissful expression on his face as Nines was kissing him senseless. Not that it was that difficult to do for an android, he wasn't the one who needed to breath. At least hypothetically.

No, Reed definitely wasn't taking advantage of the android. Actually, it seemed that Nines was showing way more initiative than his partner. He pressed the detective into his seat and finally released his slightly swollen lips. He whispered something into Reed's ear and proceeded to plant a path of kisses from the man's prominent cheekbone to his collar, at the same time lowering his hand where Connor couldn't see it. Reed apparently approved, because he braced one hand on the car's glove compartment, like he was drowning, and tangled the other in Nines's perfectly styled hair. A desperate moan escaped him, so loud Connor heard it even a row away from the car. When Nines started unbuttoning Reed's shirt to dive lower, Connor decided he's seen enough. He turned on his heels and walked briskly back to the office, even temporarily switching off his acoustic units to block out any other sounds.

It took him a while to calm down after that, but the old android room was as conducive to a somber state of mind as a morgue. The room, where Connor lived briefly after the Liberation, was now used as a closet for all the old and rarely needed equipment. It looked inhospitable and rather dark with a single lamp emitting cold blue light under the ceiling. On the upside, it had several diagnostic tools for androids that were still operational. So, Connor spent another couple of hours running checks on all his systems. It wasn't great. He put down the last scanner he was using and left. Trying very hard to be inconspicuous and not to disturb anyone, he walked out of the precinct and to the taxi stop. Instead of the taxi, an old Lincoln drove up.

Hank got out of the car and turned to Connor, resting his elbows on the car roof.

'You're calling that keeping me posted?' Hank asked sarcastically.

'Hank, I-'

'Get in the car.'

Connor obeyed. Hank sat back and switched on the emergency lights so that nobody would trouble them.

'How did you know I'm here?' Connor asked carefully.

'Saw you leave on CCTV. You think I'm letting you out of my sight after what happened?'

Connor just remembered he was dead to Hank for a week. 'Guess not. It's nothing, Captain. I was just going to Jericho.'

'Why?'

'For repairs.'

'I get it you're not heading there for a drink! I meant what's wrong?' Hank said in a sharp tone.

'Hank, it's nothing…'

'Then tell me!'

'I don't want you to worry!'

'Well good luck with that, because I'm fucking worried!' he gave Connor a pained look, and added: 'Connor, please, talk to me. I nearly lost you, shit, I did lose you! You can't keep me in the dark all the fucking time.'

'Okay,' Connor sighed and looked down. 'There's a couple of things off about the body. Left hand barely works because of that stab wound in the docks. A couple of biocomponents misfiring. The Syndicate wasn't treating Nine all that well. This is all easy to fix, I just need to get my old body and replace some parts. I looked up in the files, it's been sent to Jericho for disassembly.'

'Fine, then that's where we're going,' Hank nodded, and put the car into gear.

'It's the middle of work day.'

'I'm on personal leave for two weeks. Just couldn't stay at home. Had nothing to do there, so I kept coming back to the office,' Hank sighed, not looking away from the road.

Connor nodded. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but the atmosphere in the car felt tense. He noticed that Hank was speeding.

'Captain, you're doing over fifty miles an hour.'

'Yeah, well, write me a ticket,' Hank snapped. 'I've known you for five years, Connor! You think if you don't tell me, I won't know there's something wrong with you? _Really_ fucking wrong with you?! Connor, you…' the android squeezed his eyes shut, expecting a reprimand. 'You don't have to tell me anything,' Hank said in a much softer tone, and Connor's eyes opened in surprise. 'Whatever reason you have. If you think it's none of my fucking business, that's fine with me. Just as long as you get help.'

They were both silent for a moment. Then, Connor gave the Captain a sideways glance.

'I… There are some mods on the internal drive that I can't override. I don't think they're functional, probably just a result of someone picking Nine's brains without knowing what they were doing. Some functions don't run well, social protocols compromised, databases don't archive right. I remain operational for now, but I believe it will only get worse now that a normal android is using this drive. Something that heavily modded won't be able to carry my entire memory database for long...'

He saw Hank's knuckles grow white on the wheel.

'It's fine,' Connor added quickly. 'It sounds worse than it is. It's not like I'm a human with brain tumor! But I do need Simon's help. He has CyberLife's old equipment - it can overwrite almost anything.'

'Then why weren't you telling me this?' Hank said in a rasp voice.

'Because… I'm scared,' the android admitted as they drove up to the main entrance to Jericho Tower. He was almost seeing the ghost of the Garden through it. 'I know I shouldn't be, but there's always the chance that…'

Hank's hand squeezed his shoulder.

'It's going to be alright, son,' he said with much more conviction than Connor would expect, and the android judged that at least some of that had to be an act for his benefit. 'You've come back from worse, haven't you?'

'I suppose,' he answered with a weak smile.

'And this time, I'll be here, with you,' that was said with the confidence that Connor believed. And just like that, his fear subsided.


	21. Chapter 21

When Connor told Markus he wanted to see the new hospital, this wasn't exactly what he had in mind. But it _was_ a great facility: the whole CyberLife assembly and maintenance line got relocated into the tower. Simon greeted him with a smile (of course, Nines has already informed the whole Jericho Tower that Connor was back). Hank accompanied them up to the hospital floor, where Simon in his usual mild manner stated that visitors have to wait outside the operating room and that's final.

In the surgery, Simon went to work on Connor's head. Connor wasn't very comfortable stepping into a manipulator again, but he fought an impulse to run. After all, he couldn't just give up after all he's been through, Hank was right, he's been through worse. It took an almost complete disassembly to get to the modded parts of the brain. The injuries there were fixable, but nothing to scoff at. In the past, CyberLife would just reset an android with such problems. Simon was very carefully replacing each strand of the modded code, mindful not to catch anything important. It took hours. And spending that long in a manipulator didn't do any favors for Connor's stress levels. He did cry. In the end, he couldn't get out of the machine on his own – his legs weren't obeying him.

As his stress levels dropped from the nineties into the seventies, Simon agreed to replace the remaining biocomponents. Connor stood over his old body, deciding what he wanted back. He took out and replaced both visual units. The eyes were the most noticeable thing he missed, Nine's just didn't see the same way. His old LED, naturally - for all the problems it created he liked people knowing how he felt, and that he felt something at all. The entire left arm came back – the one he had was beyond repair. The feet, voice modulator, and a couple of internal units followed. He took one last grateful look at everything that carried him through the entire encounter with the Syndicate, and asked Simon for a small box.

He left the Jericho Tower's hospital with that box under his arm, in standard android clothes (whatever was lying around to replace Nine's rags), and good as new. He found Hank at the hospital reception bench. Connor was surprised the captain was still there and didn't fall asleep, after all, it was nighttime already. Hank was sitting on the bench, elbows propped on his knees, hands clenched below his nose, brow furrowed and eyes looking into one spot on the floor.

'Hank, I'm back,' he called to him. Hank jumped up and looked at him like he was back from the dead again, not back from the hospital. Connor thought he shouldn't be surprised, the man had his own bad memories of hospitals. 

'Connor! You're alright?' Hank asked, getting up and putting his arms around the android's shoulders.

'I'm great! All fully operational.'

'Thank god! What's that?' He pointed to the box.

'That? Just some… spare parts,' Connor gave him a lopsided grin.

'Spare parts?' The look of disgust on his face was priceless.

'A souvenir, okay?'

'You're weird,' he shook his head, ignoring several very surprised glances that a human calling an android weird inevitably attracted in the main android administration facility. 'Okay, I've had enough of this place, let's go home.'

'Home?' Connor froze for a moment. It was a bit too good to be true.

'Yeah, why, you've got somewhere else to be at this hour?' Hank attempted levity, but Connor heard some strain in his voice.

'No, it's just… I mean, Cole…'

'Don't worry, I called him hours ago, told him what was going on. So, you won't give him a heart attack showing up,' Hank chuckled. 'He can't wait to see you again,' he said, walking Connor to the car.

'Really?'

'Connor, you're sure you're alright? You saved his life, brought him home. Of course he wants to see you! You're his fucking hero! He was just as bad as me this whole week,' Hank said, his face falling a bit.

'I'm sorry,' Connor said automatically.

'It's okay, not your fault.'

They got into the car. Connor carefully placed his box on the back seat.

'Hank, did Cole tell you... what the Syndicate wanted with him?' he asked carefully as they were driving down the endless bridge to the mainland.

'Yeah,' Hank nodded grimly. 'That's part of the reason I was coming back to work this week. He told me everything. They actually promised him my head. I'd like to say I'm fine, but I'm not. He isn't either. But we'll get there. It's just... My own son wanted to kill me! This is… fucked up. I know it's not his fault, but it's fucked up! When I figured out what was going on, I was angry at you for not telling me about Cole. But if I'm honest, you did the right thing, Connor. I don't know what I'd do if I found out earlier.'

'Thank you for understanding, Hank. It wasn't easy for me.'

'Yeah, well, hold your horses, 'cause I ain't done with you yet,' Hank gave him an irritated sideways glance. 'The fuck were you thinking getting caught by the Syndicate?' Connor could see Hank wanted to talk about it for a long time. 'Going undercover – fine. But there had to be a better way to do it-'

'There wasn't. I thought about it, Hank, believe me, it was the only way to get Cole out.'

'Okay, another thing. Why the fuck were you so fixated on Cole?' He noticed Connor's widened eyes. 'Oh, I'd go to hell and back twice for my son, but what was your deal? He told me, you didn't plan to survive.'

'He's your son… You missed him.'

'And you thought that was worth your life?'

'You did,' Connor shrugged, and the next moment he almost kissed the glove compartment from the sharp stop Hank pulled. The man stared at him, shocked into silence. Connor analyzed the last couple of minutes and realized his thought came out a bit wrong. 'Not in the sense that you'd want me dead, I know you wouldn't. But if it was a choice between your son's life and mine, you'd choose him, wouldn't you? I mean, that's what any parent-'

'What sort of a fucked up choice is that?!' Hank finally snapped. 'No, Connor, I wouldn't choose that! I mean, I don't even want to think what I'd do if I had to make that choice, but I sure as hell know I couldn't make it!'

'Hank, it's all right,' Connor said, looking him in the eye.

'No, it's fucking not! How did you even get that idea?!'

'I… overheard. It was by accident, I wasn't eavesdropping!' Technically, he was, but he didn't mean to eavesdrop on _that_.

This discussion didn't sit well with Connor, and his stress levels were going up.

'What could you possibly overhear to think that?!'

'Hank, please, I heard you in the shooting gallery!' He raised his voice a bit more than he intended.

'The shooting gallery?'

Connor was really fed up with dwelling on it, so he just replayed back the audial part of the memory to him, in the Captain's own voice: 'Connor is not a replacement for Cole. Never has been, never will be, in no fuckin' way.'

The car was completely silent. Minutes dragged like hours. Connor couldn't make himself look at Hank. He was afraid he'd tell him to get out of the car again. Tell him he didn't want to see him.

Instead, Hank started the car. Connor dared a glimpse at him. Hank looked… shattered. Connor immediately felt guilty. He only wanted Hank Anderson to be happy, not to make things worse.

'Hank, it's okay, I didn't mean it as a reproach. I understand, really-' he tried.

'You don't understand shit,' Hank answered evenly, almost emotionlessly. That scared Connor even more.

'Hank, you missed the turn, your home is in that direction.'

'We're not going home.'

Well, then, that was it. It wasn't like Connor hadn't been asking for it...

'We need to talk first,' Hank added.

He drove to the Riverside Park. The one where he almost shot Connor five years ago. They walked here many times since, so Connor almost forgot about that. But now that particular memory came into the forefront of his mind.

In summer, the park looked much more welcoming. Everything was green, and the treetops rustled in the wind. It was too late for the kids to be playing on any of the attractions, but they didn't have the same abandoned look they had in winter. Hank left the car and walked towards the embankment. Connor sighed and went after him.

They leaned against the parapet, looking into the river, for some time. Finally, Hank spoke.

'Listen, Connor. I… I'm sorry. For everything,' he gave him a long sideways glance. 'When you got shot, and the last thing I said to you was that I didn't want to see you… I swear, if I didn't have Cole next to me at that moment, I would've shot myself. At least when he died, or I thought that he died, I was there for him, I didn't… yell at him over nothing,' Hank took a shaky breath.

Connor reached out to comfort him, but Hank raised his palm.

'No, let me finish. So, now I'm standing here, thinking…' He looked up at the lit up bridge in the distance, his jaw set. 'Thinking I should've shot myself after all,' Connor felt another jolt around his thrium pump at that. 'I fucked up. I managed to lose both Cole _and_ you, not even ten years apart. I never deserved either of you. And I'm so… so fucking sorry for saying… _that_. I shouldn't talk when I'm angry, nothing comes out right. To think that if I kept my fucking mouth shut you wouldn't have dragged yourself through that hell…' He looked straight at Connor. 'If you never want to see me again, I'll understand. Hell, _I_ never want to see myself again…' He said, tears in his voice.

Connor took a deep breath and looked Hank in the eye.

'Hank, I didn't get myself caught by the Syndicate because of what you said. I did it despite of what you said. I'd do it anyway, because getting a family back together is worth the risk. You showed it to me. And getting back a family of a good man is definitely worth the risk. It doesn't depend on our personal relationship,' he said with conviction.

The captain looked back at the water, shaking his head.

'I'm not a good man, Connor. I'm a fucking coward. I should have told you earlier.'

'Told me what?'

Hank sighed and turned to face Connor like he was turning to face a bullet.

'Connor, I need you to know something,' he put a hand on the android's shoulder, barely touching him. 'Connor, I love you,' he said quietly. Connor felt his software, freshly assembled, glitch out for a second, when Hank continued: ' And it's not because I lost Cole, not because I needed someone to replace him. Just because… it's you. All the time we've spent together, every human idiocy I had to explain to you, all the shit we went through, hell, even those stupid coin tricks you've taught me…' Hank chuckled at the memories and looked at him with unbelievable warmth. 'Over these five years, I came to think of you as my own son. To me, you'll always be my boy, just as much as Cole is. He'll never replace you, just as you weren't replacing him - it doesn't even work that way, people aren't replaceable! I love you both. I'm sorry if it upsets you, and I know you don't feel the same way. I've always known, that's why I didn't tell you anything, didn't want to make it awkward. But when I lost you, I wished I was telling you this every day. I love you, Connor, I want you to be happy, and I'll do anything to keep you safe. Just remember that, Okay?'

A couple of large tears ran down Hank's cheeks. He lowered his hand again, carefully, as if he was afraid to scare Connor away. The truth was that Connor couldn't run even if he wanted to. He was frozen in place. His synapses frantically going over every memory he could reach. How could he not see it? Of course, he knew Hank cared about him, just didn't expect it to be that much. He never dreamed of being anything like Cole to him. And it was so obvious. People don't let their colleagues or even friends live at their house indefinitely, they might not bother with saving their birthday cakes, and just generally don't let them into their lives so easily. Even Hank's reprimands over Connor being careless and sloppy weren't really a captain dissatisfied with his officer, it was a dad worried sick for his son. And what was his evidence for the contrary? A phrase shouted in anger and a wrong name said in a dream.

'Connor?' Hank asked, concern written all over his face. Connor realized he was silent for a while now, but didn't know what to say. 'I'm sorry I upset you. Are you okay?'

'I'm okay,' he nodded, shakily. 'How... why do you think I'm upset?'

'Connor, come on,' Hank gave him a sad smile. 'Your LED is about to catch on fire.'

The android's hand jumped up on its own to cover his temple. For the first time in his life he wished he'd cut out the damn thing.

'Connor, no, it's fine,' Hank carefully took his head to lower it. 'It's okay. I understand. I'm not pressuring you into anything. I know you don't feel that way-'

'How can you know that?' Connor snapped.

'Well, I had my doubts at times… You seemed so happy. But I guess you were just being polite. I was just… a better handler to you, I suppose. And that damn sign…'

'A sign?'

'Yeah, you know, my old nameplate, the one that the whole department keeps placing on your desk every now and then?'

'What about it?'

'Well, I kinda hoped one day you'd find it… I don't know, sweet? Certainly cheered me up every time. But… You just kept removing it, and you seemed genuinely upset whenever you saw it…'

'Of course I was upset!' Hank almost jumped at the outburst. Connor struggled to match his social protocols to his emotions. He felt tears welling up in his eyes. Emotions really were a mess. 'Every time… I got a reminder. That I can't have… the one thing I wanted more than anything.' Hank froze at that. 'You gave me a home, a family, you think I just... didn't care?!' He glared at the man, almost offended. 'It's what saved me. The Syndicate, they were digging in my brain, if I didn't have memories that were important enough to hold on to, I'd be reset!' Hank flinched. 'If I didn't have you… even after getting this new body, I wouldn't be alive right now! I'm alive because of you! Because you gave me something worth coming back to! Because you've been the best dad one could wish for! How could you think I didn't love you?!'

He didn't wait for Hank to come back to his senses. Connor hugged him, perhaps a bit too tight, and buried his head in the man's shoulder, crying. Hank brought his hands around him and held Connor, gently, but firmly, until his sobbing subsided. They stood like that for a while, Hank stroking Connor's head for comfort, until the android found himself able to think again.

'We're both idiots, aren't we?' He asked, his head still on Hank's shoulder.

'I guess. Runs in the family,' Hank chuckled softly. 'Connor, I love you, but you are strangling me…'

'Oh, sorry!' He jumped back. 'I… you… really don't mind?'

'Mind what?' Hank said, taking a much needed breath.

'I… I think I just called you dad.'

'Yeah, and I've called you son a couple of times now, we've discussed that, haven't we?'

Connor suddenly realized he didn't even register it, and smiled rather stupidly at the notion. But he pulled himself together quickly.

'It's different. What about Cole? He just got you back. How do you think he'll take-'

'Connor, I told him how I felt about you. We've been together for a week, remember? And every day of that week we both thought you were dead! Point is, he knows, and doesn't seem to mind very much. He kind of guessed anyway, between what you told him and what I did. Guess I've got _one_ smart son,' he shrugged and Connor grinned.

'Wait…' his face dropped again. 'Does all this mean… Nines didn't tell you anything? When I got shot?'

'What was he supposed to tell me?'

'Pretty much what I just told you. Maybe less emotionally. I asked him, in case I didn't make it.'

'No, he didn't.'

'And I've just started trusting him,' Connor shook his head.

Hank gave it a brief thought. 'Well, if you think about it, knowing all this without you around to tell it back to, would have made it much, much worse for me. And I guess in terms of not telling me important shit to spare my feelings, Nines had a great teacher,' he said in his favorite passive aggressive manner.

Connor smiled and looked away shyly. He swore off looking down on Nines's, or anybody else's social protocols, ever again – he was clearly in no position to judge. Hank put a hand on his shoulder.

'Let's go home, son.'


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This whole epilogue is nothing but a horrible, tooth-rotting fluff. Be warned. Abandon hope.

It was unusual to see the lights in the house on, especially when they were both getting home at the same time. It looked even more homely that way.

'Nice place. It'll be a pity to move,' Hank muttered, looking over the house.

'Move?' Connor asked, taking his box from the backseat.

'Yeah. I moved in here with Cole after the divorce, the house was never fit for more than two people. And a huge dog. I guess we'll need to upscale soon. At least one thing this fucking promotion is good for! Until then, we'll have to toss for the couch.'

'I'll survive the couch for a while,' Connor smiled.

They entered the house. Cole was watching television, curled up on the floor, hugging Sumo. Connor immediately spotted a tracking bracelet on the teen's ankle. Of course – nobody would let a member of a drug cartel just walk free, even if he was cooperating. But then, it was the least of the troubles Cole could end up with dealing with the Syndicate, so all in all he got a good deal. Hearing them enter, both Cole and Sumo jumped up.

'Connor!' the boy shouted and immediately rammed into the android, hugging him across his chest, and completely ignoring his father. Connor felt a bit uncomfortable at that. 'I'm so glad you're okay!' 

Connor hugged him back. Sumo didn't feel as thrilled to see him. He sniffed Connor, alternating between growling and wagging his tail, and inclined his head in confusion.

'Yes, Sumo, I've got a couple of new biocomponents,' Connor said, patting the dog and feeling the softness of his fur with his new hand for the first time. 'Don't worry, you'll get used to it.'

The dog looked at him intently and, deciding to give him a chance, licked his hand.

'Right, give him some space, you two,' Hank grumbled and went into the kitchen, probably as uncomfortable at the emotional greeting as Connor.

Sumo went to his favorite corner, and Cole stepped back.

'Connor, I… I'm sorry,' he said, blushing.

'Sorry for what?'

'For being a fucking coward.'

'Cole!' Hank exasperated from the kitchen.

'Sorry, dad,' he sighed and looked back at Connor. 'I'm sorry for leaving you there. When Nine shot you. I mean, dad told me it wasn't really you, but I thought it was-'

'Cole, it's fine, honestly. You couldn't have done anything. You'd just get yourself killed. Besides, have you forgotten? You saved me. Twice!'

'Twice?' Cole asked as they shuffled into the kitchen.

'First when you stole the gun, and the second time when you punched the guard.'

'Oh, yeah, I forgot about that,' he smiled briefly. 'I guess we made a pretty good team, huh?'

'Yeah, we did,' Connor smiled. 'I brought you something,' he handed him the box. The boy put it on the table. Catching Hank's surprised glance, he added: 'Be careful, it's a bit gruesome.'

By Connor's estimation, his last comment sped up the unwrapping by at least 18%.

'Cool! It's… a hand…' Cole was a bit surprised. 'Looks sick! What's it for?'

'It's for you. If you don't mind?' He looked from Cole to Hank. They both stared at him with blank expressions.

Connor sat down on one of the chairs to be at the required height. He carefully took Cole's right hand and peeled off the glove the boy was still wearing. Cole cringed a bit when his biocomponent and metal hand was bared, as if it reminded him of his past life as a whole.

'Don't worry. You might get a bit of static, but it won't be too bad. Just trust me and relax,' he said.

Cole nodded, frowning and still not quite understanding what was going on. Connor put his fingers across the boy's wrist, pulled up his own skin imitation. Cole looked up at his father with a questioning expression, and Hank shrugged with a fond smile. Connor immediately felt the boy relax. That little exchange told him he accomplished his mission much better than Amanda every could.

The neural connection in his fingers stopped any sensation in Cole's hand, he wouldn't need it for now. He felt around for the release button. He found it and pressed. The biocomponent hand separated from the platform with a weak hydraulic whoosh. Normally, it should have come off pretty easily when separated, but whoever made it in the first place had no idea how biocomponents worked, and cracked the connection jamming it too hard into the socket. That would explain why Cole's hand always remained white – the skin was the first thing to go in malfunctioning components.

It took some effort and wriggling, but finally Connor managed to disconnect the hand along with its horrid metal casing. Cole looked shocked – he probably didn't even know his hand could come off. The socket was horribly dirty – with a bad fit, it had who knows how many years of muck accumulated there. Connor looked around for something to clean it with and found a box of tissues on the table. He immediately took a couple and went to work.

'Since when do we have tissues in the house?' He thought with amusement that deflated in a second. 'Oh, right, I died last week,' he glanced at Hank, who seemed to be as engrossed in the process as his son. Connor felt a bit awkward sitting in silence like that.

'I was getting myself fixed,' he started, as he cleaned the dirty socket. 'I had to get my old left hand back to replace Nine's, but its right hand was fine. So, I thought about this… Hank, do we have any spirits?' The captain nodded and handed him the bottle from the top shelf. Connor ignored the pang of guilt and smiled reassuringly. He rubbed the socket with alcohol, making sure it's absolutely clean. He then took out the hand from the box. 'It's my old hand. From my old body, I mean,' he carefully pressed the joint into the socket.

It connected and sucked in. Connor touched his wrist again, and their skin imitations grew back with a synchronized sizzle, masking the gaps between individual details. The new hand matched his skin tone thanks to the hardware settings, but was a bit different in bone structure and bigger than Cole should have at this age. At least it looked as if he had someone else's hand sewn to his arm, and not some abomination of plastic and metal.

'If you've taken after your dad, you'll outgrow it in several years,' Connor continued, as Cole marveled at his new hand. 'But it will do in the meantime. Doesn't pack as much of a punch as your old one, but at least you won't need to wear the gloves everywhere. It has great motor skills. Only needs some calibration.'

Cole's eyes snapped up. He shoved his new hand into the pocked of his jeans and produced Connor's old coin.

'Come on, give it a spin,' Connor winked.

Cole turned the coin between his fingers. Slowly at first, but he was getting used to the new hand pretty quickly. Connor stood up and moved to stand next to Hank, looking how Cole started imitating some of his tricks, be it with one hand. Cole tossed the coin several times, catching it either on the tip of his fingers or on the back of the palm. He giggled, and in a sharp motion tossed it to Connor, who caught it between two outstretched fingers of his left hand. He grinned at Cole and pocketed the coin. Cole walked up to him and hugged him again.

'Thank you so much!' He whispered, emotions boiling in his voice. 'For everything...' When he moved back, the teen chuckled. 'Hey, if that's your hand, and you've got the other one… Are we technically… like… actual brothers now?'

Connor's eyes blew wide. He honestly hadn't thought about it that way.

'I guess we are,' he smiled at the boy, happily.

He felt a strong hand on his shoulder. Hank hugged both him and Cole, clutching them to his chest.

'My boys,' he whispered, kissing Cole on the top of the head. 'How did I deserve you both?' He added softly, kissing Connor's temple.

Connor relaxed against the hug, and set up a new folder on his internal drive – Top Priority. He had a couple of memories he wanted to put there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The End!
> 
> I can't believe I wrote over 50k words here.  
> Anyway, I hope you enjoyed! Yes, no - let me know.


End file.
